


In Mac's Bar, Everything Goes

by Pandora_de_Romanus



Series: In Mac's Bar Trilogy [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: After that is all AU, BAMF Dean Winchester, BAMF Harry Potter, Bars and Pubs, Canon-Typical Violence, Fantasizing, HP Series Compliant, Hockey, Hunters & Hunting, Hurt Dean Winchester, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Past Tom Riddle/Ginny Weasley, Please Help Me Tag, Protective Sam Winchester, Supernatural Season 05 ep 10 "Abandon All Hope" Compliant, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Wizarding World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 13:23:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 25,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8104075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandora_de_Romanus/pseuds/Pandora_de_Romanus
Summary: After saving a bartender, Dean's life changes. He has a lot to learn about hockey, bars and a guy known to his patrons as Mac.





	1. Crying on the Bartender's Shoulder is such a Cliche

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is finished. I'm moving it from FF.net to here. Hope you like it.

Dean asked for another whisky in Mac's Canadien's Bar in Boston. Life sucked, shit happened and well… He was alone in the road again. His father was long dead. His brother, after the Apocalipse-that-wasn't (as hunters had taken to call it, lately) settled down with this cute girl they saved from being Pest's meat suit, in Minnesota. At first, he would just stop now and then for a few days with her. After that, he started living with her and hunting now and then. Now, Jane was pregnant with his nephew and Sam was there full time. Of course, Dean stopped to visit, also, now and then but… The road is a lonely place. Cas, just after the war, went up to Heaven to clean up his file with God, who was back. He knew he should be happy for his friend. He knew he should be overjoyed that God, had decided to promote the angel instead of smiting him. And he knew he should be celebrating that they actually succeeded in saving the world this time, just for a change. Dean let out a sign. He stopped at Sam's and Bobby's often but he felt like he belonged nowhere. It was his own fault he was like this. He knew nothing but hunting and fighting, he was raised into it since he was four. And now he was alone… And his family was all scattered around the country. 'Nice doing, Dean' he told himself.

"Tough day, mate?" He heard the barman say in a thick British accent.

"Kinda." He answered. He wasn't the type to go all chick flick on bartenders while drunk but he was so lonely it wouldn't hurt talking to the guy.

"What's her name?"Asked the bartender.

"My problem is not a girl. More the lack of one." Dean said laughing a bit.

"You do not look the kind who would have trouble getting any girl."

"The problem is maintenance. Getting is easy the keeping is the hard part." Dean answered remembering Cassie for a moment. She still detained the title of longest hook up in his life. Not that he would ever go back to her. She had hurt him too much for that.

"Hadn't you had too much for one night?" The bartender asked politely, he wanted to close the bar, it had been a long night and Dean was just another drunk, like so many others before, keeping him from his bed. He felt sorry for the poor bastards, but if he stayed he would lose the last bus. He never got the kicks of driving, let alone on the wrong side of the road so he was stuck with bus' schedules.

"Don't think so. 'm not even slurring yet." Dean answered matter-of-factly, not even noticing the other man's real intention of kicking him out. He was so drunk he didn't even get mad with the guy for thinking he couldn't hold his liqueur.

"You shouldn't pass out on my bar, mate. We are closing and you do not look the kind who makes a fool out of himself. Want me to call someone to drive you or maybe a cab?"

"Your accent is nice." Dean said, with a drunken smile and the bartender knew he was a lost cause.

"A cab it is, then. And my accent is a gift from mother England." He said as a way of small talk making his way around the bar and coming next to Dean to help him from his seat and in direction of the door. "Come on, mate."

The poor barman had both hands full of Dean Winchester when he heard someone else enter through the door.

"We are closed."

"Petrificus Totalus!" Screamed the newcomer holding up a stick. The bartender dropped to the floor hard as a statue. Dean fell with the man, losing the little balance he had, and looked at the newcomer at the door who walked up to them. He was thin and haggard. Dean's eyes widened in surprise, he was wearing a dress!

"What the hell?" He muttered, his mind confused. He tried to stand, but the thin man kicked his guts smiling as if it was Christmas Morning.

"Out of my way, you filthy muggle!" The man said and focused on the bartender who seemed to be out cold on the floor, he hadn't moved a muscle since falling.

"Naughty little Potter… I'm going to peel the meat from your bones."

Continued the man in the dress with a maniac smile on his face. Dean knew that kind smile, oh, so well. A shiver run up his skin as he remembered those words on Alastair's voice. That guy wasn't bluffing. The man raised his stick and said.

" I want to hear you scream, Potter. Finite Incantatem." And then he said: "Crucio."

The man on the floor, Potter, left his not moving state to writhing and howling in pain. Rabastan Lestrange was so happy he could sing! He finally would have his revenge from the Boy-who-Bloody-Lived-to Ruin-his-life! He finally would avenge his honor, his family, his brother and his lover, Bellatrix. That was when something caught his eye. The muggle drunk he had just kicked was now standing, and not looking so drunk anymore.

"You know something?" The muggle drunk asked. "I really hate witches." And to Rabastan's utter shock, the man took out a silver gun with a mother pearl handle and shot him right in the middle of his eyes, the muggle's arm steady as only someone who knew what he was doing had.

The whole room was silent but for the heavy breath of the man on the floor who looked stunned. The man looked at his attacker and then at Dean.

"Weren't you drunk?" Asked the bartender, bewildered.

"As I told ya, not so much… And even if I were…" And in that moment the bartender clearly saw that he was, indeed, drunk. "The secret when you're seeing 3 targets instead of one is just aiming for the one in the middle." He smiled at the Potter guy trying to look impressive. The guy just kept looking at him bewildered that a person like Dean even existed.

"I'll keep that in mind… Next time, I get drunk and need to shoot something."

Dean extended a hand to help the guy up and noticed the guy's hand was trembling slightly.

"Your name is Potter, then?" He asked as a way of small talk.

"Yeah, but people here know me as Mac. You know, because of the bar. Mac is from MC, from Montreal Canadiens, but MC sounds too much like rapper stuff… And my American patrons couldn't tell a British guy from an Irish to save their butts so I ended up as Mac, the Irish owner of the Canadian pub." He pointed at the bar and the whole place looked like a shrine of the Montreal Canadiens.

"A Hockey Fan, then"

"The closest thing to flying." The bartender smiled whole heartedly, and Dean thought the Brit was quite charming. He wasn't one to think that about dudes but it was so rare for Dean to like someone, anyone from the start that he had to admit the guy must be something special. And at the thought Dean felt a stab of pain in his heart. Cas had worked so hard to be his friend and Sam… Was the only one who had his loyalty from the start. He made an effort not to let his pain show in his face and ruin the moment.

"You can call me Harry or what you like, though. After all, you just saved my life."

"It's cool, Harry. I'm Dean."

"And are you a squib, Dean?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow and paused. "Since you know about wizards and used a gun to finish him off?"

Dean thought for a moment. He didn't know what made him answer truthfully but he did.

"Nah, just a hunter." Dean saw Harry going stiff for the moment. "You are one of them, aren't you?" He asked Harry.

Harry looked at the floor, then back at Dean. "I'm a Wizard, yes. But not a Death Eater."

"So that is what those fuckers look like!" Dean commented offhandedly.

"Are you going to kill me?" He asked earnestly with a sad tone to his voice but no fear. Dean admired that in the guy.

"Not in the mood right now. And after all I hunt evil, not just anything that crosses my way. You are just a bar owner. Nothing wrong with that." Harry nodded and smiled in relief. "Just remember that if you step outta line, I'll have to change my mind, 'k?" Dean asked and once again the green eyed Brit nodded.

"Ok… But now we are back to the point where I need to close the bar and get the bus." He looked at his watch. "Oh Bugger. I'll never make it."

"I could give you a lift." Dean suggested.

"You are in no condition to drive a car." Harry pointed out as if the mere notion of Dean driving was insane.

"But I can bullseye a he-witch right in the forehead?" Dean sounded offended and Harry decided he had quite a point.

 

To be Continued…


	2. The Day After...

Dean woke up that morning feeling as if a rat had died in his mouth a week ago. His head pounded like a bitch and his back didn't feel much better. The light in the room hurt his eyes, but as soon as his eyes got used to it he could make out a small living room and he noticed he had slept in a couch that HAD to be the worst couch in the history o couches if the pain in his back was any indication…

The smell o coffee suddenly filled the air around him. It was strong and rich and it came from the kitchen. He let his feet drag themselves in autopilot in the direction of the delicious smell of homemade coffee. His body craved caffeine like his baby craved gas. It was a simple equation, really. Dean's mind didn't work without coffee.

"Morning, mate. Took you long enough… I'm surprised you could actually sleep this long with that much light… Never bought curtains for that living room, after all." Said the young man with black hair and the greenest eyes Dean had ever seen.

"Too much, too early. Coffee." He grunted out as way of answer and soon he was sipping strong sweet coffee from a Canadiens mug.

"It's half past nine." Said the man Dean now remembered as Harry, a wand he-witch with a hot as hell accent. Where the hell THAT came from?! Did he…? But apparently he slept on the couch!

"Exactly. Too early." Dean made a pause, time for the truth. "How did I end up sleeping on your couch, Harry?"

"I could not let you drive back that way. It would have been suicide." Harry said as he made them toasts. The jam and butter on the counter.

"Where did you buy this? It's awesome." Dean commented as he took the first bite of his toast with jam.

"I made it. Blackberries. If you like you can take a jar. I always make too much." Harry answered.

"Thanks, man! Sam will dig this shit. By the way, why the hell are you up so early?" Dean squinted his eyes against the light for drama.

"I'm an early riser, as rule. Want to see if we can grab a few minutes on the ice? Play some one on one before I have to pay the bills?" Harry was really excited when he asked this, it's been such a long time since he had someone to play hockey with… Dean looked at his mug and then again at Harry.

"I'm good, dude. I need to stop by the motel, take a shower…"

Harry's eyes grew with mirth.

"You must be joking! You can't skate!" Harry couldn't help but laugh. It was so good to laugh, how long has it been since he laughed like this? Since he last talked to Ron and Hermione? One, maybe two years ago? Harry hadn't felt this relaxed around someone in years. Dean was the only one in America who knew his real name or what he really was. Of course he hadn't told the other man about his saving the world but that was ancient history. There was nothing to hide from the hunter. No lurking danger that could kill the other man any minute. Old Voldie was gone and Death Eaters could suck because that man could take care of himself. It made him feel really light and giddy.

"So what, if I don't, shorty!" Dean replied covering his embarrassment with anger. Harry laughed even harder. That was new to Dean, someone who actually laughed about being called shorty, he himself hated it. Maybe it hit a nerve because his Sasquatch of a brother's existence made him feel shorty. Maybe it was Ruby's voice in the back of his head calling him "short bus" that made him hate the nickname. Harry, only laughed. And Dean almost felt his face heat up in light of his laughter.

"You know what they say, Dean, best perfumes come in small bottles. Now, come on, I'll make sure the ice doesn't bite your arse too much."

And that was that. No room for further discussion and Dean didn't felt so worried about making a fool of himself.

As Harry stepped on the deserted rink he was totally at ease, like the blades were part of his feet. He was light and small, everything most hockey players weren't but he was SO fast. He didn't move like a hokey player either… He glided, compact and aerodynamic, as if he was, indeed, flying. When Dean tried it wasn't so pretty. His first step and he was face first on the ice.

"Dude, you're so screwed."

Harry laughed.

"Why? Is it my fault that you fell on your face?" He asked coming to Dean's side.

"You brought me here, it's all your fault." The hunter mumbled from the ice. And Harry was laughing again. Dean didn't have the heart to stay mad when the Brit laughed like that.

Harry helped him up and held his arms as he got to his feet.

"Try to use your brakes, I got you my old skates because they have brakes, it will be easier to stay up. Hold my hands I won't let you fall."

Dean had a dead grip on Harry's arms and he wasn't so sure it would work.

"Now, come on, you don't have to step ahead, you slide the blade on a diagonal. That's it. Good. Steady now."

Harry was ready to let Dean try without his support when Dean fell on his ass this time.

"This just isn't my thing." Said Dean on his cold butt. Harry helped him again glaring at him.

"You can stop that right now. By looking at you I know you aren't a quitter. So I'm not letting you quit, got it? There isn't a hockey player in the whole world that is a quitter. Because this is a rough sport and everyone who gets in the ice to play must be ready to be clobbered sometimes. And that's why I'm teaching you. You look tough enough. It's been three years since I had someone to play with and I'll be damned if I'll let you quit now!" Harry said.

"Are you done with the chick flick moment?" Dean asked.

"I, actually, thought it was quite a manly speech." Commented Harry seeing that Dean felt a lot surer of himself and letting him stand on his own.

"Dude, you are such a girl." Dean answered.

 

To be Continued…


	3. The Past He Left Behind

Harry scrubbed the counter and smiled at himself just thinking about that morning. Dean and the ice were now quite acquainted since the hunter fell a lot on his ass, and his face, and his knees, but he got a grip of the art pretty fast also. A few more sessions and he would be ready for the stick.

He had liked a lot the company of the hunter. He was fun and was the first person to know the truth about Harry in the four years that he had been living in the US. Of course he knew he shouldn't trust that easy, especially after Ginny… She had married him, she had his name, his money, everything he could give her… But that wasn't enough to stop her from sleeping with Seamus Fucking Finnigan…

And that wasn't all. He felt like such a fool. Mrs. Weasley knew, Percy knew. Ron knew but hadn't had the courage to tell him. Hermione was out of the country for six months and for the first time didn't have a clue. It had to be George to come forward and tell the truth. If that wasn't enough, the press got wind of it. It wasn't Rita Skeeter's doing this time but his shame was all over the papers again. He couldn't take it this time. He didn't have to. He had no compromise with nobody's safety anymore.

He packed his bags and apparated to France where he stayed a bit with Bill and Fleur at her family's townhouse. The paparazzi found him easily there and no peace was found.

He tried Bulgaria, where, by request of Hermione, Victor Krum gave him shelter, but once again he was found by the press. He was really, really furious at those guys and almost blew some of them up in his rage. But he reined his fury, took a deep breath and disappeared.

Literally.

Disaparated and for 2 years no one had any idea of where he was, not even Ron and Hermione.

The goblins from Gringotts handled his divorce and made sure Ginny ended up with what was just and fair. And according to Griphook and the other goblins, who really knew and liked him she deserved nothing. After all he was the only wizard they respected for more than his money, and they made sure the traitorous hag didn't get a cent of his money. He sometimes wished she had got it all. He had no use for it really, but the goblins wouldn't hear any of it. They now handled all his problems with the ministry and his states. They also managed Andromeda's monthly help for Teddy. Raising a kid on her own at her age wasn't easy, after all.

For that first two years of seclusion, the Gringotts' Goblins were his only link to his old life. They and Teddy. 13 year-old Teddy Lupin whose best friend was Harry and who had loads of problems of his own like hitting puberty as a metamorphmagus and having to deal with girls. He never told the boy where he was living. Actually, most people thought Teddy was wacked because Harry would visit only him. He would apparate outside the house, break in at night, see his godson, talk to him and only him, and disapparate.

It took 2 years for him to gather his courage to enter Andromeda's house by the front door but she was very understanding about that. When he actually did, he also decided it was time to talk to Ron and Hermione. They were sad that it took so long for him to talk to them and even as he did, it was still hard. Ron's face and hair were too much like Ginny's, and it still hurt to even think about her. Even so, it had been nice to see them.

At the time, he already had the bar in Boston and liked pretty much the rhythm of his new life. He wasn't going back. He knew that. It was "magical" how he fit so well into his new life. The moment he apparated to nowhere from Bulgaria, he ended up on Montreal. And being there decided to enjoy his time and travel a bit around Canada. He flooed Gringotts and the goblins gave him an unlimited credit card for his expenses. He traveled around and loved the place. The problem is that the Canadian Ministry got him and accused him of entering without permition and expelled him from the country. He had to settle for America then. He was already a fan of the Montreal Canadiens after a few games and decided he would stay close to Canada, so he settled for Boston which had a welcoming enough government. Of course, he didn't use his real documents and that's how Mac's Canadian Bar was born.

America was a kind of no man's land since their magical government was weak. Their magic folk were few since Salem Witch Trials and the whole country was packed with hunters since the auror force was next to zero. Every time he had to deal with the rogue Death Eater who had escaped the British government or a hunter who knew too much and tried to kill him he had to obliviate everyone involved all by himself. No Aurors appearing out of nowhere to handle the issue. That was the American Government, for you. Totally incompetent and they even asked why there were so many hunters around… Someone had to do their job, right? Harry answered in his mind. But having everyone who ever knew about him in this side of the Atlantic, obliviated… Made him lonely, he had never been accepted like he was yesterday. Dean… Dean was a hunter. He had his own secret, maybe that was the reason. He could have tried to kill Harry. But instead he offered him a lift. Harry could have just thanked the man and leave him to die on the road back to his motel, but he had invited the man to sleep on his couch. What was the problem with him, trusting such a threat to his own life?

Quite an odd development.

"Earth to Potter, is someone there?"

Harry looked, startled, into bright green eyes so unlike his own. He decided he liked Dean's eyes. They weren't Lily Potter's eyes, they were just Dean's. 'Speak of the Devil' he thought to himself.

"Oh, I'm sorry. You were saying?" He answered focusing on Dean.

"I was saying 'hey, Harry, how are you?' but I think I should change that to 'what has crawled up your ass?'" The Winchester said looking Harry right in the eyes.

"Nothing. Talking about arse, is yours still cold?" Harry laughed.

"You'll see, this isn't over yet, shorty." Dean pointed a finger at him. "I hope not, tomorrow I'll be waiting for you on the rink. Early. And if you are not there, I'll enter your motel room and turn an ice bucket into your sleepy head, got it?" Harry told him and it didn't sound like he was joking.

Dean saw himself smirk unconsciously "Right."

They paused.

"But you didn't say what's got into you."

"I was having a chick flick moment on my own, because I'm such a girl, after all…" Harry mocked Dean's own words.

"I hate chick flicks moments, man, but if you need one, I'm here. My brother, Sam, is as much of a girl as you are, so I've got experience." Dean winked at Harry.

"Shut up, prick. It is game night, tonight, and soon this will be crawling with people. Come, I'll give you a shot on house." Harry said turning to serve a Whiskey shot to Dean and a new comer who just signalized him.

"Only one? I thought you were my friend!" Dean asked, his voice up a octave.

"Not a charity house, mate." Harry smirked.

 

To be Continued…


	4. His Brother's Keeper

It was 6 in the morning and Dean Winchester was on his feet, for now at least.

"Come on, slug! This way the ice will melt before we make it!"

Harry teased from the door. Dean was trying to get dressed in the bathroom but Harry was overly excited about the ice on the lake. He was carrying two sticks and his hockey skates and he was totally and utterly delighted.

"A moment!" Dean answered dressing his heaviest coat, not surprisingly a gift from Harry and carrying his own hockey skates also a gift from Harry. In 5 months he had learned a lot about hockey and skating. He also learned that he couldn't stay away too long. He would hunt, of course, disappear for two or three weeks, but he always ended up coming back to Mac's Bar.

Mac's Bar became kind of a new Roadhouse to him… Without the other hunters, of course. In a way he was always worried that some crazy fucker like Gordon would find Harry and off him. Maybe that's why he kept close by, he didn't know for sure but he made a point in taking care of all cases in the area. Boston became his turf. And all the other hunters respected that. After all, he was Dean Winchester, one of the guys who ganked the Devil.

When, he was in Boston itself he would end up on Harry's couch. It had something to do with getting up early for Hockey before preparing the bar for the night. And, even though he argued, Harry bought a new, more comfortable, couch for Dean, since he had become a couch regular. Ever since, Harry had bought him Hockey supplies in almost every single one of his visits. There was no stopping him.

Dean dragged himself to the door. "Are you finally ready, Lady Di?" Harry asked. "Do I have to call the Royal Guard?"

"It's cold outside." Dean said dreading going out so early in the morning.

"I know! It's brilliant, isn't it?" Harry had such a blinding smile on his face that Dean hadn't the heart to stay grumpy. But he asked anyway.

"Tell me again why we need to go out so early."

"Because soon the lake will be crowded with beginners and it will be impossible to have a good one on one." Was Harry's answer.

"Ok. Can I beat the crap out you, then?" Dean asked.

"Course not. As if you actually could." Harry snorted.

"I thought that was the whole point in playing hockey!" The hunter said mockingly as if the idea of no fighting horrified him.

"Poser." Harry's accent was all over the word making it sound so Harry, Dean felt a shiver run down his spine, he had to stop feeling that kind of feeling about his best friend, he reminded himself.

"You know, it is actually a miracle you still have such a heavy accent." Dean commented.

"I watch BBC." Harry laughed.

"Who is the poser, now?"

Sam was quite worried about Dean in the last month. He had been alone on the road and had not checked in as much as he usually did. The last he heard of his brother he was on his way to Boston again for the sixth time in 6 months. Sam knew there was something in Boston, maybe someone, but he was worried, nonetheless. Dean could be anywhere lying in a ditch or something. He called his brother's mobile. It rang a lot before a sleepy voice picked up.

"Yeah."

"Hey, Dean."

"Sam." Dean answered.

"Dean! Turn the bloody thing off!" Screamed a male heavily accented voice on the far background.

"Dean?" Sam tried again.

"Sorry, brou. What's up? Is Jane alright?" Dean asked still half asleep.

"Yeah… We are alright."

"Good. Is it born yet?" Dean asked, he would feel terrible if the kid had been born and he was not there because he forgot to count.

"What?" Sam asked.

"My nephew, Sam! Is it born yet?" He asked more awake now.

"No! Not yet, it's for March, middle March. How have you been?" Sam asked as if dancing around some other question. Dean hated that about his brother, the guy was too tactful sometimes.

"Why are you calling, Sammy?" Dean asked, straightforward, as was his personality, Sam paused for a long while.

"It's been a month since you called, Dean. Thought… Something was wrong." Dean smacked himself in the head. He had been so caught up in returning to Boston and about the things Harry made him do that he had forgotten to drop a call, forgot to tell his brother or Bobby, for that matter, that he was alive. He felt like an actual jerk at that moment.

"I had been busy, you know." He tried as way of apologizing, but he knew that wouldn't work on Bobby.

"Tough hunt last night? It's almost noon and you're still in bed…" Sam asked with a smile in his voice as a way of telling Dean that he was forgiven.

"I wasn't hunting last night. Hunting is easy. Serving a bunch of asslicking Bruins and Canadiens fans… That's rough. Stopped 3 fights and we weren't halfway through the second time." Dean answered bitterly. Last night, he had worked on Mac's Canadiens Bar 'till five in the mourning waiting tables, stopping fights, scrumbing floors and all that jazz.

He knew it was almost noon, but he could still sleep a little more to compensate the douche bags he had to put up with for Harry's sake, last night. He still couldn't believe Harry's power over him. He had actually worked… A whole night.

Still, he remembered well why he had done it. The last game Harry had worked alone he had ended up 3 tables and 5 chairs short, after a fight. But that wasn't the problem. Harry had billed the bastards and covered the damage. What made Dean do it, though, was the shiner Harry showed on the day after. Dean hadn't been in town and Harry had tried to stop the fight by himself and that was what he got for his trouble. A black eye and a fat lip. He knew Harry was an excellent wizard. He knew that without having seen him into action, he could feel it in the magic that surrounded the apartment. But he couldn't use it in public and without it… He was just a short skinny Brit, with a beautiful smile.

"What are you talking about, Dean? You are watching hockey now?" Sam asked.

"No. Long story, tell you later. Is Jane alright?"

"You already asked that, Dean."

"Good."

"Look, tell me what's happening, dude." Sam tried, hiding but not so well his concern for his brother.

"Sammy, I'm fine. Really. I promise I'll visit soon. I have a hunt on the way there and I'll drop by Bobby's after." Dean said as a way of promise.

"Ok, then. Call, if you need anything."

"Will do. Bye." He told Sam.

"Bye."

Before he could register, he already had a red Canadiens mug in his hand, the one that always ended up in his hand, kind of his mug, and it smelt richly of coffee.

"Who is Bobby?" Harry asked coming to sit right next to Dean with his own coffee mug, he was curious and Harry couldn't deny that deep down he was kind of jealous, who was Bobby, anyway? Sam he knew from Dean's stories about his brother, but Bobby?

"An old friend." Dean answered smiling and that made Harry even more jealous.

"Is he in the business?" Harry asked wanting to know more about this Bobby.

"He used to be. He was my dad's friend. He is like my dad to me." Dean said. And Harry felt relief wash over him, get a grip Harry, he told himself, you are REALLY acting like a girl now.

"What about your father, was he in the business too?" Dean wasn't a sharing person, but since he was in the mood for it, Harry decided he would do the best of it.

"Never told ya the whole story, huh, Harry?"

Harry shook his head.

"You are my first friend out of the business."

"Bloody Hell."

"Yeah, bloody freaking hell." Dean laughed a bit. "I was 4 when my mother died by the hand of a demon. She was a retired hunter. My father became a hunter after she died and hunted the son of a bitch down all his life 'till the day that he died by his hand too. My brother and I, we killed the demon a year after that. I hunt with my brother since our mother died, but he is a family man now, retired. Bobby's also retired. Got screwed up in a hunt, can't walk anymore. His house was the only safe place we had growing up. His house and Pastor Jim's chapel. But Pastor Jim died a long time ago."

"I'm really sorry for you, Dean." Harry said, sympathetic.

"It's ok, it's old History now." Dean cracked a fake smile.

Harry looked him over, taking a deep breath. It was time to trust.

"Look, I know it is not easy. I lost my parents when I was a baby. My aunt and uncle told me they had died in car crash and raised me as if I was the house help. I learned to cook when I was 4. With eleven I discovered I was a wizard. Went to boarding school and discovered my parents had been murdered. The guy who did it, tried to do me in too, but I took care of him first." Harry didn't know if Dean would think of him as a killer but he trusted this hunter, he trusted Dean Winchester with his life and his world. He was just afraid to trust the man with his heart. He knew Dean was as straight as they come. Heck, he thought HE was as straight as they come, he had had a wife for Merlin's sake, and now he had fallen for a bloody hunter!

"I'm sure the he-witch bastard must be burning in the rack, screaming, and I tell you, dude, it ain't pretty." Dean gave him a blood-thirsty knowing smile that made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand up. That smile was all pain-filled screams, and torture and hell-fire. Harry had never seen this dark side of Dean before, this certainty of what Hell was like. He wasn't going to ask how he knew it, though. Didn't have the guts to go there yet. He just knew it was the truth.

And for a moment he felt in his heart a surge of dark pleasure… A Pleasure of knowing that Voldemort must be burning and that pleasure was almost sexual. He could have kissed Dean in that moment and he almost did just for the truth he heard in his comment.

To be Continued…


	5. Promise

When it came the time for Dean to leave for Bobby's, Harry was quite unsettled. He couldn't tell why, he couldn't find a reasonable explanation to it but something in him was telling him that this trip, this time, was a bad idea.

He knew well that Dean was used to the rough life he had. He was a hunter and that was his ONLY occupation. It was like being an auror and Harry had been one. He knew how it was to get home bruised and tired. But at that time he had had a good Medical Magical Assistence, while Dean was just human and normal and didn't have Madam Pomfrey or magic to put him back together.

Now and then, he would catch a glimpse of Dean shirtless after a hunt and he could almost picture a world map on the endless bruises all over Dean's torso. The old scars didn't make him feel any better, either. Dean never asked for any help with his injuries. He said he could take care of himself; that he was like Batman. He never let Harry come close to hunting. And that made Harry REALLY mad at times. He said all the time he could help that he had experience in battle, but Dean was stubborn, as stubborn as Harry. And used to say that if he touched that issue again he would leave for good, that hunting was HIS life not Harry's. Of course Harry could tell him about the War, about being and auror, but he wasn't ready yet. The same way he couldn't tell the hunter how much he enjoyed the times the other man got out of the shower wearing only a towel. So he would let go.

The thing was, when it came the time for Dean to leave for Bobby's, Harry couldn't let it go anymore. But he couldn't impose either. He felt so much better when Dean was around. That way he could keep an eye on him.

This time, though, it was different. Harry had that feeling that something was going to happen. Something bad.

He, then, asked Dean if he could go with him which was vehemently denied. Harry had to take deep breaths and count to ten, slowly, so as to not to blow up. Literally.

He tried, after that, every single low trick to try and stop Dean from going. He told him he needed help at the bar, he told him the weather was going to be awful (which he fully meant to make true), he told him he had been threatened by one of the patrons, and that the mafia was trying to extort money out of him (the last two, Dean didn't buy)… But none of it worked.

He then decided to take out the big guns. He knew Dean thought of Harry as a second Sammy, and thus he rarely said no to Harry when he used emotional blackmail.

"Dean…" Harry whispered in the darkened living room, the sun wasn't up yet and Dean wanted an early start on the road. "I thought you would be here for Christmas." He said, and batted his long black eyelashes at the hunter doing what Dean called Sam's puppy-dog's eyes. Dean looked at Harry's green eyes, took a deep breath and said.

"You'll see. I'll be back before you know."

"Before Christmas?" Harry insisted, Christmas was in five days.

"You know I can't promise that. Not when I'll be hunting."

"Dean, please." Harry breathed and they were so close Dean could almost feel his breath on his lips. It was as if the darkness made it unreal, as if that intimacy was just a dream. They talked like lovers, but had never kissed each other. That was the first time Harry ever wondered if maybe his feelings were reciprocated. He was a king of denial but not even him could ignore the tenderness in Dean's eyes as he looked at Harry.

"I… I promise." Dean said defeated again by puppy-dog's eyes. He picked up his duffel and headed to the door without looking back.

 

To be Continued…


	6. Honored Boys Keep their Promises

Something was wrong.

Something was VERY wrong.

Werewolves and Skin-walkers aren't the same even if some people think they are close enough. Dean knew his father's diary by heart now and had quite a lot of personal experience with both kinds. Though werewolves were called wolves they didn' hunt together as the animals they were named after. They ate human hearts and people generally had only one heart so they weren't sharing creatures. Skin-walker os the other hand, were people who developed the power of turning into animals. They also didn't mix, not with people, not with the animals of the kind they turned into because even the animals could feel they were freaks. Thus they hunted anything they could. Humans and animals. And since they had animal instincts they were also territorial so, no way in hell would they work with each other let alone with werewolves.

Dean could have his Sam-moment with it and rationalize it that way but that still didn't explain HOW a mixed packs of werewolves and skin-walkers had attacked him. It was impossible, unimaginable, and downright WRONG in capital letters. But still…There had been five of them, working on a pack of three werewolves and two skin-walkers… It was just freaking fantastic. Three hurters had died before Dean had taken the case. Poor bastards… He knew well that it could have been him. He was only human after all, but it looked as if everyone else forgot about that. They sent him there alone! Hey, he wasn't Bruce Willis on Die Hard! Hunters all over the country bowed to Dean as if he was a Superman of hunters, only because he had ganked the devil. Ok, that was a great thing, but they forget he had been with Sam, and had Bobby's help and Cas had also saved their asses loads of times. All that, if you don't count God's personal intervention by practically putting the Spear of Destiny on his hand in the exact moment to gut old Luci(fer). But he was alone now and they still thought he was unbreakable!

Every time something was too big or too dangerous for average hunters, they contacted Bobby so that he would go and ask Dean to take care of things. The treatment was usually flattering when they bought him beer but, at that moment, Dean Winchester felt like a freaking tic tac toe sheet thanks to the claws of too many werewolves and skin-walkers ganging up against him.

He had tried his best to stitch the deepest cuts, but there were quite a few he couldn't reach and he didn't have the time to stop at Bobby's or Sam's or a Hospital. If he stopped he would never make it on time.

He called Sam to tell him he wouldn't make it as he had said he would because he had to be in Boston for Christmas and his brother almost choked on whatever he was eating.

"Dean… What the hell is going on? It's the first time in months you decide to visit, and you have to go back? To Boston? For Christmas? What are you now? Some old grandmother with a Christmas obsession?"

"Cut it out, Sam, It's nothing." The older hunter tried to smooth it out.

"What's her name? Look, if you got a girl there, well, good for you, but it's been months since I've seen you. Bobby is worried too. Come to Minneapolis. Let's talk about your girl." Sam said exasperated.

"Dude, tell Bobby I won't make it. I HAVE to be back before Christmas." He answered, and as an afterthought he whispered. "I promised."

"Dean… You remember what happened with Cassie." Sam sounded really worried now. Cassie had really been bad for his brother. This Boston Girl was his first attempt of a relationship since Cassie and he didn't want his brother to do end up the same way as last time.

"Sammy… It's different this time." Dean couldn't tell Sam Harry wasn't a girl. Dean couldn't tell this was different because he and Harry were just friends and he didn't have a chance in hell because Harry was a straight MAN, just like him. Well, he didn't feel that straight anymore since he had found himself longing to touch Harry's hair and skin and lips quite a few times.

"Have you told her?"

"About hunting? Yeah." He answered his brother. He didn't want to keep this conversation going.

"Did she believe you? What did she say?" Sam more worried by the second.

"Sammy, she is a witch." Dean answered somberly; he couldn't hold that info from his brother. His brother may have hid his affair with Ruby, but Harry was different and there was no need to hide what he was and the truth about him. He couldn't betray Sam's trust now that they were on good terms.

"What? Are you out of your mind?" Sam was pissed at that moment.

"She's British… She's wand-witch. No demon involved." Dean was quick to explain, as if it could make it any better.

"Wand-witches only come to America to hide from their law in the UK. Dean, you know that, she can be a murderer, or one of those Death Eaters Bobby was telling us about."

"She's not."

"How can you tell? Have you researched her? Have you asked Bobby about her? What's her name?"

"Sammy, I'm tired. Just ganked a whole pack of werewolves plus two skin-walkers. They are beginning a moster's club of some kind."

"That's weird. You ok?"

"Yeah. In 12 hours, I'll be in Boston. I'll call you."

"I just hope this girl is worth it."

Dean smiled to himself and even Sam could hear the smile in his voice.

"She is, Sammy. She is."

 

To be Continued…


	7. Short and Cute

It was Christmas' Eve. And there was a terrible storm outside.

Dean was tired, and sore, and wet, and still bleeding on his bandages since he didn't get to stitch up his back. He had driven 12 hours straight to be there. Nevertheless, he felt well. He was at Harry's doorstep and he was fulfilling his promise. He came for Christmas, and even brought a gift.

He knocked.

"May I help you, sir?" Said the smoking-hot readhead that answered the door. She was wearing only a man's shirt (one of Harry's he recognized) that barely reached her thighs. For a moment, all voice was robbed from him and if he wasn't a well trained jerk with years of experience at being hit and kicked and tortured and maintaining the smile on his face he wouldn't have been able to deal with the situation. Instead of looking like a fool he answered.

"I might just find a very good way for you to help me, sweetheart." With a trademark Dean Winchester smirk on his face. Inside he was freaking out. Who was this bitch and was Harry bedding her?

"Sorry, dear, but I'm taken. I like my boys short and cute. Something else I can help you with?" She asked smiling sweetly.

"Is 'short and cute' there?" Dean asked trough the pain in his heart. He couldn't quite believe he had let himself fall this hard for a guy. His best friend!

"Must be in the shower." She said as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Ginny! For Merlin's beards, what are you doing?! You can't just open the door… Dean!" Harry had come from the kitchen fully dressed, wearing a red apron with embroidered mistletoes and a pair of red stove gloves decorated with Santa. His eyes grew the size of saucers when he saw Dean at the door. He made him enter as soon as he recovered from the initial shock.

"Dean, come help me with the turkey." He said leaving for the kitchen. Dean followed still stunned and tired and sore, barely holding himself up.

"Don't you take too long, honey!" Came Ginny's voice from the living room.

As soon as they were alone, Harry took off the gloves and apron, turned to Dean and hugged him.

"Mate, you made it! You are alive!" He said, his voice full of relief. As soon as his arms closed around his friend, Harry felt the hunter's whole body tense and Dean hissed in pain. "It's good to see you too, Harry" He said trough clenched teeth disengaging himself or he would pass out from the pain.

"What happened?" Harry asked, worried.

"Just a few cuts. Nothing big."

"You never hiss like that when it is nothing. Let me see."

"Harry, forget about it. Tell me who is your new friend." Dean said trying to center himself. Harry's hug had been nice though it made all his cuts hurt like a bitch, but the guy had an almost naked woman in his living room, and in Dean's world that couldn't be good.

Harry took a deep breath.

"That is my ex-wife, Ginny."

"Ginny?!" Dean said a tone up, how could he call his ex-wife with a petname? He asked himself. "How come you never told me you had a wife?"

"EX-wife. It's been 4 years since I last saw her! And I can't call her Ginerva."

"Well you should. It never occurred to you that it was important to tell me? That you had had a wife? What else had you conveniently forgotten to tell me? That you have 3 children? I drove 12 hours straight to be here on fucking Christmas because you ASKED. I left my brother and Bobby hanging because I promised you to be here and now your wife is sitting on MY couch wearing just your shirt!" Dean's tone raised as his rant carried away and when he finished he knew all the cuts that he had stitched up had opened and the pain made him sway on his feet. Harry caught him and felt the wet warmth of blood on his fingers through Dean's shirt.

He half carried, half walked the bigger man to his room and laid him there. He took off the leather jacket and boots, vanished the ruined shirt and jeans and accessed the damage as Dean moaned in pain. Before he had any conscience his magic had already opened his potion cabinet and there were a series of healing salves floating around him. With a slight stunning spell, Dean was out and he started to mend the flesh with a few well rehearsed spells he learned in his time as an auror, soon he was applying the salves to the closed and clean cuts. He enervated Dean, but the other man just slept, too tired to wake. It took barely an hour to take care of it all, and he was exhausted and worried. When he turned he saw Ginny leaning on the doorframe.

"Ginerva, please, leave." He said in a low voice turning back to the man on the bed.

"But Harry, my clothes are still on the drier. You were the one who insisted on no magic. You know I can't leave with my clothes like that, I just fell on that frozen lake, remember? Who would have known you'd be there to save me again? I missed you so, honey." As she said the last part she was all over him. He didn't move, but her hands were stung by his magic as if there were a thousand bees over his skin.

"I just dried your clothes and you already had pepper up potion for the cold. I want you gone now." He said without taking his eyes from Dean.

"You know, Harry, you should know better than to treat me like this. The press will love to know I have ruined you for women. Just wait 'till they find out that you have a boyfriend now." Ginny said smirking.

"Out!" Harry shouted, as a vial that was on the bedside table came flying to his hand so that he could throw it after Ginerva. She ran through the apartment door holding her clothes and shoes and slammed the door behind her just in time to block the vial which smashed itself against the door.

Harry couldn't care less for the mess.

 

To be Continued…


	8. In which the hunters in Harry's life multiply...

"Dean?" Sam's voice asked through the mobile.

"Dean can't answer now, Sam. May I take a message?"

"Who is it?"

"It's Harry. You don't know me, but I'm a friend of your brother. He was injured but he's going to be ok. Don't worry; I didn't take him to the hospital. As soon as he wakes up I'll tell him to call you."

"What happened? Did he make it to Boston?"

Harry smiled to himself but Sam could hear the smile in his voice. "Oh yes, just in time for Christmas as he promised. Your brother is a man of his word."

"How long has he been out? Could you tell me the motel he is staying in?" Sam asked.

"I'm guessing 3 maybe 4 hours, but I think it is just tiredness. He is staying in my apartment."

"Oh. Is it too much to ask for you to hold him until I get there? I have to make sure he is ok. I'll be there in a day or so. What's the address?"

Harry said his address with a building apprehension. He was just giving his address to an unknown hunter who didn't know anything about him. He looked down at Dean in the bed and glared at him.

'Winchester, just look at the things you make me do.' He thought to himself.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Dean woke up to soft fingertips on the skin of his face. The fingers went down his nose, then traced his left eyebrow, then his right, just to go back to his nose and start again. At first, Dean feigned sleep for a few more minutes, enjoying the rare moment in which he could let himself be taken care of.

He, then, let out a fake yawn, and opened his eyes to the greenest eyes he knew: Harry's. The fingertips were also Harry's.

"Hey."

Harry said, smiling at Dean. Dean for a moment remembered his mother. Harry's smile was like hers, it meant peace and safety. He was safe. His body attested that. It wasn't hurting so much at the moment.

"Hey." Dean answered. "Sorry to bleed all over your turkey."

"I hope you can still eat it… I cooked a whole turkey for the both of us, and nobody ate it." Harry said in mock anger, it would be a waste to throw all that food on the trash.

"I'm sorry about that." Dean answered a bit ashamed of passing out on the man's kitchen.

"I'm the one who is sorry… For Ginerva. She fell through the thin ice in the lake and I couldn't let her freeze after taking her off the water." Harry explained, he was still shocked to have encountered his ex-wife after 4 years when she came on vacation to the US.

"It's your house, Harry. You bring in whoever the hell you want." Dean said still bitter about the whole ex-wife thing.

"Dean, don't be difficult. You know you almost live here. And Ginerva was really annoying. She shouldn't have implied… We didn't… She… Means nothing to me. She went to bed with one of my high school friends at the time! I never told you this… But that's why I left England." Harry said.

"Sorry about that… And about almost living in your house…"

"Don't be. Being Mac the crazy Irish, owning Mac's Canadiens Bar… It's a lonely business. But it's not so bad since you came along… I want you to know that… So, I… Well, it should be a surprise, but… I bought you a bed for Christmas. So that you can have a room here, a real room. With curtains." Harry told the other man shyly. After all this time, Dean still slept on the couch, in the living room which didn't have curtains yet, because he always forgot to buy them. He had bought a new couch, but he always forgot about the damned curtains.

"Harry… I… I can't pay for the rent…" Dean answered tripping on his words.

"You don't have to. Please. I don't want you to go. I want you to feel comfortable. And, of course, for you to come back in one piece from your hunts, ok?"

"Ok."

"It is just for you to know you have somewhere to come back to. And since we are talking… Well, your brother was very worried about you. He called your cell. I picked up, I hope it is not a problem. He said he would come and see you… To make sure you are alright." Harry explained, calmly.

"What?" Dean almost screamed. He was totally screwed. How would he explain to Sammy that Harry was his Girl in Boston?

"He was worried, Dean. I told him you would be here when he came. So you can forget about running, or I'll tie you to bed." Threatened Harry.

"Hum, kinky." Dean said before he could stop himself, his mind full of all the perverted stuff Harry could do to him if he was tied to the bed and by Harry's blush he could tell the same had passed through the wizard's head.

"I'll better heat up the turkey for dinner. I hope you are hungry." Harry quickly changed the subject and fled the room.

As if it weren't bad enough to be bed-ridden now Sammy, the mother-hem extraordinaire, was coming to give him a hard time. Of course, Harry was proving himself to be as much of mother-hem as Sam, but with Harry, he didn't have the heart to argue. He was so good to him. And now… Now he had a home. It was a LONG time since he had a home, but weirdly enough he felt at home.

He knew pretty well it didn't have anything to do with the apartment or the bed. But the invitation.

 

To be Continued…


	9. Creepy Behavior of the Supernatural by Sam Winchester

Sam missed the Impala. Of course, Jane's SUV was nice and comfortable, but it hadn't the same feeling, the POWER of the muscle car. But he had made his choices. He chose to wake up by Jane's side every day, and have a quiet day job like most people did. He chose to save his woman from loneliness everyday and strangers, now and then. Dean could never turn his back on the strangers. And Sam knew that his brother cared, not only for the fun of it, but he cared because he knew nobody else did. Dean saved strangers and dedicated his whole life to this so that there wouldn't be more people like them. So that their childhood story didn't repeat itself. He did because he was the last hunter of the old school still active.

Sam had made his choice. He chose Jane and their son. He decided he had done enough, suffered enough. But he couldn't turn his back on Dean, and he helped his brother when needed. That Christmas was one of those times. Dean was hurt in a stranger's bed, so he kissed his almost wife, took her SUV and drove to Boston.

When he stopped at Wendy's for lunch and gas he knew there was something weird.

The room was quiet.

Too quiet for lunch.

He entered the establishment and there wasn't a living soul inside. The muffins were in the food counter, there were half made sandwiches left around and also a few half-eaten on the tables around the place. Sam took out his gun and approached the kitchen slowly. On the floor, there were human bodies. Half-eaten bodies of uniformed employees and a few costumers on vacation. On them, there were small ugly creatures, their skin was light blue and they had big black eyes that spelled mischief. Their wings were light and translucent like a fly's. They had their small mouths full o human meat and their bodies were tinted with dead blood. They were all over the place. There were too many of them already and by the looks of the ceiling that looked full of eggs and slime there would be a lot more soon. As soon as Sam entered the room, all the creatures' eyes turned to him. It looked to him as if they were quite interested in fresh blood.

After a second's staring contest the damned things were flying towards him and he was shooting them and running. There were too many of them. He ran to the car but there were a swarm of them on him. As his bullets were over there wasn't anything to keep the things from him. He flayed his arms and hit them with a skimmer. They were biting and scratching and he could barely see straight. He tried to ignore the pain the best he could as he opened the natural gas from the industrial ovens pulling the tubes off it and letting the gas fill the diner. He closed every door or window to make sure the things were all inside the building. He put all the flammable products he could find on the microwave and ran for the door as he tried his best to get rid of the ones that were already eating him. He got out the door, barricaded it with a trash can and ran… As fast as he could.

The impact of the explosion threw him to the ground, but he was sure to have gotten them all. That was a relief… But he knew now that Dean's Werewolf/Skin-walker case wasn't the only weird thing to be happening. Pixies didn't feed on human meat. They are pests that love to steal trinkets and fool humans into their deaths but never have he heard of cannibal pixies….

He had to talk to Dean.

Quick.

 

To be Continued…


	10. Charming First Impressions...

"Sam, I suppose. Harry." Harry said opening the door and reaching out a hand for the man outside to shake. On the other side of the threshold, a very tall man, with a shaggy haircut as bad as his own answered.

"Hey." Sam shook his hand.

"Come in. Took you long enough. Your brother was starting up search party in here." Harry told him. The younger man was covered in grime, his clothes were dirty and wet from the snow covered floor he had laid on after the explosion, he had lots of bloody marks over his face and hands that were the only uncovered parts of his body since it was so cold outside.

"Are you alright? You look like shit." He pointed out.

Sam threw him a slight glare.

"Is Dean in?" Sam asked.

"Sam! Where the hell have you been?" Dean entered the room taking in his battered and bloody brother. "What happened?"

Sam gave a pointed look towards Harry.

"We'll talk later. Are you ok?"

Dean dismissed his concern.

"Good as new. Have you met Harry?"

"Yeah, he was just telling me how I look like shit." Sam answered sarcastically and that had Dean snickering.

"Well, you do, mate. Sit for a bit. I'll bring something for your cuts… Should as well have opened a hospital instead of a bar, you guys would make me rich." Harry commented as he went to his room for some salves and bandages.

"He's right, dude. You look as you were chased by killer birds or something. What happened?"

"Pixies."

"Pixies?" Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Cannibal Pixies. Eating people and procreating in a Wendy's on the way here in broad daylight."

"You're kidding me."

"I'm serious, Dean. Those things almost had me for desert. And I think there is something really wrong going on."

"What do you mean?"

"Werewolves and Skin-walkers together? Weird. Cannibal Pixies? Impossible. There is something messing up with the supernatural creatures of this area. Something powerful."

"Sam, it is just 2 cases…"

"Here we are. Lay off the layers, mate. We have to clean it up before using the murtlap essence; it's good for the pain." Harry entered with a water bowl some cloths and a bottle of something bright yellow. It looked home-made and Sam was a bit unsure.

"Murtlap?" Sam inquired uneasily.

"Awsome stuff, dude. Harry here works miracles with injuries." Dean said enthusiastically. Sam started taking off his coats and the checked outer shirt. Soon he was cleaning his injuries with Harry's cloths and water.

"Like I said, should have tried a hospital." Harry grumbled. "About the pixies… I will have to agree with Sam, Dean. They maybe vicious tricksters but they don't feed on people."

"Harry…" Dean said, as if asking the other man not to have said that.

"He…" Sam said, glaring at Harry on the defensive. How could he know about that?

"…knows everything, Sam. He knows we hunt. He is a wand he-witch." Dean told his brother with both his hands in the back of his head.

"What's up with you? Gone crazy in your old age? Getting friendly with every wand-witch in town? Your girl, I understand, but him?" Sam asked his brother, raising his voice and gesturing towards Harry. Sam was mad, really mad. It was dangerous. He still remembered the last time he had gotten friendly with the enemy and just how "well" that ended up. His kindness had resulted in the Apocalipse and he wouldn't let Dean make the same mistakes he did.

"Him what? Finish it! What's my problem? I'm a wizard-freak? Is that it?!" Harry answered also out of his mind. Sam's reaction reminded him too much the Dursleys. And on top of that something was said about Dean having a girl… Result: a quite pissed off Harry.

"DUDES, Please! This is starting to look like Jerry Springer!" Dean said entering between his brother and friend. "Harry, you are not a freak. Sam, he is not a freak, he wouldn't hurt a fly. Right, Harry?"

Harry was still pissed. "Right." He grumbled, angry. "But that does not mean that I couldn't." And even Harry was surprised with that sentence, his venom in that few words would have made Snape proud!

The room was heavy with tension. Sam glared at Harry, Harry glared at Sam, and Dean sighed in the middle. Harry looked at Dean and was rewarded with a pleading look. He knew it wasn't Dean's style, but that was important. Sam was important. It was Harry's turn to sigh, defeated by the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. Dean's eyes, not his eye's, not Lily Potter's eyes. He could relate to Dean's puppy-dog eyes problem at that moment.

"Come here, Sasquatch. Let's have a look at those injuries." Harry said offering his olive branch in the form of murtlap essence.

Sam approached and let Harry take care of his injuries.

Dean smiled at that. It was so bright and satisfied and happy that Harry was dazzled.

Maybe he was finally doing something right, after all.

 

To be Continued…


	11. Call It a Hunch...

As soon as Sam and Dean were better from their injuries which took 3 days, they decided to take the road again. This time they were heading for Bobby's house. If anyone had information on the weirdly behaving supernatural creatures it certainly was Bobby. So they gathered their things and prepared for leaving.

This time though, Harry couldn't stay behind. A storm was coming. That same feeling that had warned him about Dean's trip was now telling him that there was something wicked coming and he didn't want to let Dean take care of it alone. Something told him to protect. That old instinct that never let him have a moment of peace during the War was on full alert, so he also packed his things that night, and as Sam was sleeping in the couch, Harry knocked on Dean's room.

The other man was on sweat pants and an old T-shirt.

"Hey." Dean said, and let him in.

"Hullo, mate. Feeling better, then? Since you are leaving tomorrow." Harry said, conversationally. He didn't know yet how to broach the subject, it had been such a sore spot between them. Every time Harry had asked to go hunting with Dean it had been met with denial, and if Harry insisted it would escalate to a fight that usually ended with Dean going out and disappearing for the night and the next day.

"Yeah. Enough for a two day drive." Dean answered.

"Good." Harry answered. There was an awkward silence in which Harry couldn't get his words out.

"Harry, look, I may not be back for a few weeks. Maybe months." Dean said not looking him in the eyes. "If Sammy's guess is right, this gig may take a while."

"I know, Dean. I have a feeling it is something big." Harry answered.

"Hum. Is it a wizard-hunch, or you are predicting the future like a gypsy chick with a crystal ball?" Dean asked raising an eyebrow.

"I never was a Divination person, but lately my hunches had been quite good." Harry answered.

"Do you guys really do this seeing the future thing?"

"There used to be a whole library of Prophecies at the Ministry once, but most human seers are frauds." Harry said, stalling a bit.

"Not so different from here then." Dean answered laughing a bit.

"Dean…" Harry had to say it so he decided it was best to do it as if he was taking off a band-aid, in one go. "This time, I'm going."

"Harry…" Dean tried to interrupt, but Harry continued anyway.

"No. You listen. My ex-wife knows where I am. She knows this place, and soon this place will be swarmed with the people I hate the most. I'm not only going to keep and eye on you, but I need to actually disappear for awhile. Can we do that?" Harry explained.

Dean nodded and that was that.

 

To be Continued…


	12. Traitorous Bitches

It was already night when they got to Buffalo. They had traveled all day long and they were tired. So nothing more logical than to stop for the night. They stopped by the road on this small motel and were checking in. Harry looked at the place and got lost in his memories of Grimmuald Place. Like Sirius home the little hotel, though not as old, was dusty and had an abandonment feeling to it. Dean asked for a room with a couch and Harry already knew their intention. Staying at an apartment with Dean changing clothes and getting out of the bathroom with no clothes but a towel on was one thing. Staying in a small claustrophobic motel room under the same circumstances was another entirely. Just imagining it made Harry's pants terribly uncomfortable. He let his bag cover his lower body for a moment until he got his bearings. That, and the fact that Sam was starting to grate on his nerves… Again. Samuel Winchester, he soon discovered, was a very calm and easy-going young man until you tried to convince him that you were right and he was not. Harry hated self-righteous people, Voldemort was a self-righteous prick. He knew Dean could be one as well when he wanted, but he never got that attitude towards him, not often anyway, and that closed that case. Sam, on the other hand, didn't trust him and thought associating with him was a mistake and thought he was manipulating his brother. As if Dean would let himself be manipulated to evil as Sam was implying. That was laughable. Dean was smarter than people gave him credit for.

"You can forget me sharing a room with two blokes." He said with finality. Sam glared at him.

"We are sorry, princess. But that's what our money can cover." Dean said a bit angry, a bit bitter. He was really weary. He had to put up with Sam's and Harry's bickering for the better part of the last 6 hours and he wasn't exactly in a good mood. The plan for tomorrow was using the radio to shut them up. He had tried ignoring it but his crankiness just showed that it didn't work.

Harry didn't argue, even if he could buy a room for himself. Dean seemed tired and he didn't want to upset the man even more. He owned Dean, again.

It had been a long and tiring discussion until Sam agreed that Harry was going to travel with them and Dean did it for him.

Later that night, Sam had been out for food when finally got to talk to Dean.

"Dean, mate… Sorry about… You know, being a prat and all." Harry looked at his toes.

"Harry, forget about it. I slept on your couch and ate your food for free for how long? 5, 6 months? I think I can live with you bickering with Samantha." Dean answered changing again the TV channel from the couch on which he intended on sleeping. For once he hadn't called a bed.

"I can sleep on the couch, if you want, Dean." Harry said sitting near Dean on it.

"Since knowing you, I've became a couch expert." Dean answered without looking at Harry still channel-surfing. He stopped a moment at Doctor Sexy MD, but then realized Harry was still with him and hurried to change the channel. He finally stopped when he got to a movie channel. It had on "Zack and Miri Make a Porno". They watched it until the end, laughing all the way but by the end of the credits they were both asleep and Harry kind of slid on Dean's shoulder, who didn't seem to mind at all, throwing an arm around Harry's shoulder in his sleep.

In Dean's mind, a strange dream formed. In it, he dressed in a ridiculous milkman outfit that had tight shorts that outlined his member with perfection and had a box of milk on his shoulder. He came in what looked like a storage room. Harry was there in tight jeans and a half opened checked shirt with a Starbucks logo in it. He smirked at Harry and said some shitty pick up line like "I've got a lot of cream for you" just before putting the milk box on the floor and attacking Harry in a furious kiss. Soon Harry was shirtless and so was he. Before he knew he was fucking Harry on top of a pile of coffee sacks. Harry was small, warm and flushed skin underneath him. His hair was a mess, his lips red and swollen from Dean's kisses. Dean could swear he was in Heaven.

He was woken by the door being closed as Sam finally got back. He was lucky he had a blanket over his lap, for his first realization when he woke up was that he was rock hard as a teenager. 'Fuck' he thought. As soon as he thought it he regretted it for he had a detailed flashback of his dream. He had to stop thinking about fucking his straight best friend. Harry woke at the same moment and jumped out of Dean's embrace, even though he felt the loss of Dean's warmth in the cold room, motels had terrible heating systems that one wasn't an exception.

"Sorry." He said. Dean, though, ignored it.

"Where were you? Had to kill cows to get a burger?" He asked Sam, who was a bit taken aback by the way his brother acted. Dean then got up and went to the bathroom calling shower as fast as he could so none could notice the tent in his pants.

Harry didn't dare move. He also had his own wet dream that involved Dean bending him over his apartment's table and fucking him senseless. With lots of whipped cream and strawberries involved.

"Man, what is up with him?" Sam asked a pale unmoving Harry that was having trouble controlling his own desire.

"No idea." Answered Harry, thinking of anything that could take his mind out of Dean's naked form on top of him. He never thought himself to be SO gay… He was appalled by his own thoughts and their lack of decency.

Not noticing Harry's 'problem' Sam decided to make small talk with Harry, maybe he should actually get on good terms with the wizard, their behavior was really pissing Dean off.

"Harry, you've been Dean's friend for awhile, right?"

"Indeed." Harry nodded.

"So… Have you ever met his girl, yet?" Sam asked.

That was enough to deflate Harry. Jealousy and hurt set on the pit of his stomach as he tried to mask his disappointment.

"No. I do prefer not to get into this kind of mess your brother seems so found of. I haven't met any of 'his' girls. I had my own share of female problems. So if he wants to go and fall for the tricks of first woman that crosses his path it is his problem. Not mine. Ginerva had been enough trouble for a lifetime." Harry answered turning from pale to red in anger. Ginny still had that power over him.

"Ex-girlfriend?" Sam asked, and decided that someone who could appreciate how dangerous the fragile sex could be deserved a chance with him. Of course, he still didn't trust the wizard but he could get to know him.

"Ex-wife." Harry answered. Sam cringed and was reminded of Bella and Ruby and decided they could do pity party for the both of them, for socializing, Dean was the one driving tomorrow, after all. So, he fished the bottom of Dean's duffle for his "secret" bottle of Jack Daniel's. He poured himself and Harry a shot, the first of many.

Harry picked up the glass a bit wary. Sam raised his glass and said in mock seriousness.

"To traitorous bitches everywhere." The younger Winchester was thinking of this new girl witch that his brother was going out with. Maybe Harry could help him convince his brother this girl was a bad idea. Harry could be a nice guy-wizard but if there wasn't a problem with that woman what would Dean be doing in a friend's house instead of seeking her help with his injuries?

"May they all die a slow death." Harry answered rising his own glass also laughing. He thought o Ginny and of this Dean's Girl… A witch! He had always thought he was the only magical person Dean ever trusted. It hurt to otherwise.

They both downed their glasses in one go, getting to the same conclusion:

'Maybe this guy isn't so bad.'

 

To be Continued…


	13. Bobby

Bobby heard the car before anything. It had been such a long time since those boys had been around. And soon, a new generation of Winchesters would be climbing the piles of rusty old cars in his yard. He felt like an old fool thinking about that.

As they stopped the car three figures left the Impala, Sam, Dean and this stranger. He had a black mess of hair and was smaller than Dean and skinnier than the other boys. Boys… Dean was already thirty but he still called them boys.

"Hey, Bobby." Sam said at him and came to the porch followed closely by Dean. The small guy approached more carefully staying at the base of the porch steps.

"Sam." Bobby said as a way of greeting but turned immediately to glared at Dean.

"Hey, Bobby." Said Dean a bit ashamed.

"A whole month, boy. Would it kill you to call, you ijit?" The older man said.

"I was hunting east." Dean said as an excuse.

"Your brother told me about that. Got yourself a girl in Boston, huh?" The older hunter lifted his eyebrows at him. Harry was tired of having to listen about this nameless girl, he hated her already.

Dean went for a distraction.

"This is Harry… He has a bar in Boston."

Bobby looked at him, suspiciously. And Harry also looked at the old man in the wheel chair.

"Nice meeting ya. Have a drink." Bobby said and offered a glass of water he had brought with him from inside. Harry had been too long under stress to just drink water offered by a stranger. He looked at Dean and Dean nodded. He took a sip and nothing happened. There was no taste and he wasn't feeling funny. He gulped down the whole thing then, trying to make a good impression. This, after all, was as good as Dean's father.

Bobby relaxed visibly.

"Come in, have a beer." The old man said and Harry thought he had just passed some kind of test.

Dean went to the kitchen for the beer and soon they were all in Bobby's living room/Library sipping beer and talking. Harry relaxed a bit, this guy sounded a lot like he expected Dean to sound in twenty years. The brothers told him about the pixies and the werewolves and the skin-walkers. Bobby told them about other curious cases of the supernatural going weird like a group of mountain trolls (and it had been years since anyone had seen trolls) that had attacked an oil refinery in Texas or a few New Age girls that had been trying a totally ridiculous invocation ritual and were attacked by dryads in a forest close to Vancouver. Trolls hadn't been heard of since the fifties and just having them out in broad day light was strange behavior. The dryads normally fed on the worshipping of stupid new age groups and their sacrifices, not on their meat like the pixies did. Something was messing with the supernatural making them more vicious.

By late afternoon, they decided they needed more info. So Bobby that night called all his contacts and Dean and Sam did the same. Harry would call his contacts later because of the time difference, so he decided to save them all from more take-out food. He was surprised to find the cupboards and fridge well-stocked. He started cutting potatoes and carrots, a few mushrooms… He was going to make stew with curry, there was some meat he found on the back of the freezer and he fully intended on doing a nice apple pie for dessert if he could find any flour. He knew Dean loved it and the apples seemed tasty.

"So… Harry Potter can cook?" Bobby asked from behind him.

"Don't worry, sir, I won't blow up your kitchen." Harry smiled a bit trying to ignore the knowing gaze of the older man.

"That's not what I'm worried about. Have you told Deano there that you are a Wizard?" Bobby asked conversationally. Harry knew that gaze, that gaze people threw at him when they knew his titles.

"Of course he knows." Harry laughed a little with no real mirth. "It's actually a funny story how we met. He put a bullet in the head of this Death Eater that was trying to kill me." He said with a hint of irony.

"The Boy Who Freaking Lived… The Wizard that offed that red eyed freak everyone was talking about back in the 90s… In my kitchen!" Bobby said in mock amazement right back at Harry for his irony.

"Or rather, weren't talking, right?" Harry smiled at his own joke and they both relaxed a bit.

"Oh, right, right, no one said his name. Was Lord Voldintort, Voldingskort…"

"Voldemort." Harry corrected. People talked about Voldemort with such ease these days, like he was an old story to frighten children, or like they knew him and what he did. None would understand ever, maybe Dean, maybe Dean who had chased and killed his own demons.

"That's right. Voldemort… How old were you?" Bobby asked.

"17." Harry answered. He never thought he would have to face this kind of question and this gaze of wonder from a muggle. But the world never ceased to amaze him. He was deeply uncomfortable. He missed his glasses for a minute, it was one of the few times he missed them since doing the operation. He could have used it as distraction from Bobby's earnest look.

"So young…" Bobby was lost for a moment down memory lane. "You know…" He asked. "These boys have been the youngest hunters I've ever met. When Dean was ten he had already shot his lot of vengeful spirits. John made soldiers out of them and they are the best on the business." Bobby tried to explain.

"I know. Dean told me about his mother, and maybe that's why we are such good friends. No one understands my life quite as him. No one ever had."

 

To be Continued…


	14. The Kicks of Hunting with Harry Potter

It took less than expected to find a new hunt that could maybe shed some light in their problems. It was far south, in Glendale, Arizona, but they didn't have the time to do it by car. Sam suggested a plane. And that was answered by a "Hell, no" from Dean. Then, Harry suggested port-keys. Which received another "Hell, no" from Dean with Sam for chorus this time. For Dean it wasn't an option because it was magic, but for Sam it wasn't an option because Harry had suggested it. Out of options, they dragged Dean to airport. He tried to sit this hunt out, but Sam said he would not travel alone with Harry and Harry said he felt likewise and that Dean was a key piece in that team. Harry even, promised that he would take the Impala, so they could go back by car. Bobby just said that he had to stop acting like a girl and board the damned plane. They climbed the airplane and as it started to take off Dean started to hum "Enter Sandman" by Matallica and grab in a vice-like hold Harry's hand. The wizard found it pretty cute but didn't comment.

"Five missing people, all male, connected to the airforce." Sam said, tracing the victim profiles.

"What are you saying? That the thing that killed them has a grudge with army dogs?" Dean asked.

"We can't use logic here, mate. These things are not acting logically. Did they disappear in the same location?" Harry asked.

"No. Bill Riley was a sergeant and disappeared from a bar, went to the bathroom and never came out, Jeffrey Smith was a helicopter pilot and was going home but never arrived. Daniel Mayhew was a doctor in history and studied old civilizations, was working for the army for 10 years, stayed after hours and was not seen leaving the base nor ever again. Randy Drake was a soldier assigned to paper work. He was on vacation, disappeared from his own house. And Jorge Guerra, Mexican, specialist in Maya civilization, worked for the army for 5 years also disappeared from his office." Sam gave them the summary of his research.

"Wait a second, are you sure this is one of hour gigs? If they work for the army maybe it is an international conspiracy or something. Nothing supernatural." Dean argued.

"Dean, Daniel Mayhew disappeared without a trace from inside a military base. None heard anything. How do you explain that?" Sam shot back at him.

"A really good spy?" Dean tried. Sam glared at the ridiculousness of Dean's theory

"A vengeful spirit, then?" Wondered Harry.

"Maybe." Sam said considering.

"I think we should have a better look to the places they disappeared from." Harry said. "Maybe, there is still sign of spiritual activity there."

"Dean, you go check the places, I'll talk to the families." Sam said.

"You be careful. These airforce guys can have the feds breathing down our necks in a heartbeat." Dean warned.

"I know." Sam said and went to rent a car. He would be needing one.

"Come on, Harry." Dean motioned them or the Impala, that had traveled with them by plane shrank in Harry's pocket.

"Why don't I have a say in where I'm going?" Harry asked.

"Because you are the rookie here. So you shut up and do as I say." Dean said playfully.

"Ha ha, you got me rolling with laughter."

Dean picked the lock to Jorge Guerra's office and nothing seemed amiss. The place was quiet as was the EMF. It hadn't gone off once in any of the places they had been yet. And that was a "No, no" for vengeful spirit. What could have killed then was still the question.

There were papers and graphs all over the table and there were pictures and articles on a corkboard on the wall. They all talked about Maya diggings, one on Guatemala where this Jorge had worked. According to the articles nothing was found but old ritualistic objects. Also there were documents that talked about a project called Key Bay that seemed pretty secret.

Harry noticed that there were loads of pages and documents missing. Things that maybe could explain Key Bay Project. He also felt something strangely familiar in the air. Some vestige of a sensation and it was familiar, not that he felt comfortable with it, far from that, but was an irritating presence he couldn't put his finger on.

"Dean, I think I might have a lead."

"What?"

"Billy, Jeffrey and Randy sound a lot like hammers to me. People that just got caught in between the fire. The real targets in this case are the doctors, Daniel and Jorge. They are specialists in the same area, the Maya civilization. They may have been working in something big. Something our creature doesn't want uncovered." Harry said.

"So it's something we can kill since the EMF stayed dead so far, and it is offing everyone who worked with it. Key Bay Project you think?" Dean said collecting every mention of the project they could find.

"That is my best guess. We have to get inside the base to see what Mayhew and Guerra were working on." Harry answered.

"We have to buy you a suit, then, and wait for tomorrow." Dean mused out loud.

"I don't believe so. I look terrible in suits, even worse in dress robes. Not in your wildest dreams I could pass as a government employee let alone with this accent. Let's have a look at the base perimeter. It can help." Harry answered with the gears in his mind already working and the magic about him cracking with excitement.

Later that night they were hidden outside the perimeter of the base using binoculars to search for visual contact with Daniel Mayhew's office.

"Why are we here, again?" Asked Dean.

"Patience, young padawan (1). Watch and learn." Harry said looking through the powerful binocular who gave him a view of an office that had yellow tapes on the door. He could see a bathroom by the corner, a table full of paperwork and a couple of archives.

"Do you have everything you need on you?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, why?" Was Dean's answer, but as soon as he had finished that sentence, Harry had already grabbed Dean's arm and…

*POP!*

Apparated side-long with him inside Dr. Mayhew's office.

Before Dean could curse or vomit, Harry's hand was over his mouth. For a moment there, Dean looked green, but held his guts in place.

"Shush. We are in." The wizard said as he released the hunter's mouth.

"I've noticed. We are not doing that again." Dean answered with finality.

"We still have to leave the premises, remember?" Harry asked, and then he noticed just how close they were standing, and just how dazzling Dean's eyes could be from that close. Dean was good 4 inches taller than Harry and his closeness made Harry blush as the breath that escaped his lips ghosted over Harry's features. He made an effort to concentrate on the matter at hand.

"We better hurry, we are not exactly invisible at the moment." Harry said beginning to investigate the papers on the table. Dean grumble in frustration and berated himself. 'Bad Dean. Harry is not for you. Face it!'

"At least they don't have cameras in here…" Dean paused. "You could have given me the heads up, about the… Popping Stuff." He complained.

"The way you are terrified of planes, I just could picture your 'calm and collected' reaction to apparition." Harry answered starting through the files on the archives as Dean grumbled on about "Cas" 'zapping' him like that and not pooping for a week. Harry just ignored him and made his best to get himself under control. Dean was a ladies man, and Harry was the farthest thing to a lady. He focused on the work. There was what looked like tons of pictures of the same diggings in Guatemla mentioned on Guerra's work. Most files had bold red letters spelling classified on top of it.

Dean had brought a digital camera, and he and Harry started taking pictures of everything that looked important: pictures, documents, analysis of soil, of the age of some artifacts that were found… There was a specially lengthy file named Key Bay Project. It was about twin stones that had been found on the temple of Kukulcan, the mayan feathered serpent god. By the looks of it, it was used in the head ornament of the head-priest. It looked like the head of a serpent and the stones were the serpent's eyes. According to the files it was used by the head-priest to protect the village against evil. Harry hadn't read it all. He would let that to Sam, who according to Dean, was Hermione in trousers.

"Are you done?" Harry asked. As soon as he said that there were voices in the corridor. Dean nodded his hand holding his duffle and before the voices got too close, they were already gone.

 

To be Continued…


	15. That X Files Feeling

Sam entered the room to find Dean in the bathroom again.

"Is he living there now?" He asked Harry who chuckled.

"Don't ask me. I'm completely innocent." Harry said and imagined how Dean could make him far from innocent. He thought he knew what Dean was doing there. He was a sexually active man and it was almost 2 weeks he hadn't gone out with anybody. He had to hold his imagination that already had him busting inside the bathroom and offering himself to be fucked in the shower. 'Harry, get a grip of yourself', he argued with himself.

Dean left the bathroom feeling refreshed. He looked at Harry and Sam.

"What say the families?" Asked Dean.

"That the dead had just been transferred. All of them." Sam answered with a smile of a cat that had caught the canary.

"Where from?" Harry decided to play Sam's game.

"Nevada."

"Area 51? You must be kidding me!" Dean asked.

"Dean, it makes sense!" Harry said with an eureka look on his face. "Sam, we have some interesting pictures for you. Seems like your government had something called Key Bay Project going on. They found a pair of stones that protected villages in the pre-Columbian era and if they are kept in Area 51 it is most possible that they have supernatural powers." Harry explained.

"You are spending too much time with Sammy, Harry, you starting to sound just like him." Dean answered and Sam couldn't pass up the joke.

"Jealous?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. Harry turned the color of a tomato and Dean gave a nervous laugh. If you looked at Sam you could swear you could see the pieces of the puzzle falling into place in his head. Harry was Dean's Boston Girl! Why hadn't he noticed it before? He asked himself. It was SO obvious. A person he trusted, a person he went to, all battered and falling into pieces. A person he had told the truth to and who hadn't run to the hills nor called him crazy. A witch. Dean wasn't a person to make fast friends or to befriend supernatural creatures. But Harry had wormed his way into his brother's heart. He saw how Dean acted with the Wizard. With Harry he was kind, and unguarded, he even had chick flick moments! It worried Sam even more, because he felt Harry had too many secrets to keep. And if depended on Dean, from what he had seen so far, Harry could get away with murder. He only hoped it was in a totally metaphorical way.

 

To be Continued…


	16. Tracking Death

The following morning a body turned up. Jeffrey Smith. They dressed their suits, even though Harry would rather die than do it, and went to see the body. No signs of struggle, nor gun wounds, nor knife wounds. He wasn't sick, didn't have a cardiac condition nor a stroke… He didn't have so much as a floo.

The man though was dead. Cold on the table. Harry and Sam looked at the body and as Dean tried to get all info he could from the coroner. Harry's hand roamed above the body as if of its own accord. The echo that rebounded from it was… powerful. Unskilled at death, it seemed, sloppy. There was this sugar coating trace to it, also, as if this energy was trying to feel innocent but a malicious and predatory characteristic lay just in a deeper level. It was familiar. And felt as an ironic laugh that was making a fool out of him. It was laughing, and laughing.

'Silly, Potter. Poor baby, Potter.' It sounded too much as Bellatrix Lestrange. And it laughed on and on 'till his own mind pulled the plug and blacked out.

When he opened his eyes, he was on the floor. Dean was holding him close, and Sam had on a worried expression.

"You ok?" Said Dean's deep husky voice that sounded rough as a shot of Jack Daniel's. Dean's eyes had a desperation to them and Harry just HAD to put him at ease.

"Yes. Let's get out of here." He said. "Please." And the coroner was relieved to see he was awake. He still offered medical support, but Harry said he was ok now, that it must have been a pressure drop, because he had always had low blood pressure and all that. Sam said it had been some time he was on the field and laughed at the coroner, if he knew what Sam meant. Dean kept silent, eyes trained on Harry. They walked out of the Hospital to the Impala.

"What the hell happened over there?" Dean asked as if he could skin someone alive.

"Good question, Dean. One moment, he was looking at the body, then he has his hand over it and his eyes roll to the back of his head, next he is down. What was that Harry?" Sam asked.

"Hum… It was a wizard." He answered looking at his feet.

"What?" Sam asked.

"The one who did the deed." He answered. "Was a wizard. Someone I know…"

"How can you tell?" Sam, was trying to keep a level head. He didn't want to trust Harry, but that was all the info they had at the moment.

"The Avada Kedavra, the killing spell… It leaves a mark on the soul of those who use it. And if you are sensitive enough, you can feel the echoes of the killing curse." He looked pale still and Dean wondered if he had seen a ghost on that echo. "I was never one to feel it, We have special people who do only that normally, our own magical coroners, but it was familiar… It's someone I know. Someone that reminds me a lot of the War." Harry commented, lost in his memories of Bellatrix Lestrange. Her laugh, her insane cackle, 'I killed Sirius Black!' was the sound that filled his mind, her crazy eyes smiled at him every time he closed his eyes. They needed to be prepared. It wasn't the time to avoid talking about the war.

A known weight fell on his hand before he could tell them more. It was Dean's hand. He knew by heart each and every callus on that hand and the exact temperature it kept when comforting. Sam averted his eyes, he felt like intruding.

"Let's go back to the hotel. You tell us about it there." Sam said.

Harry was grateful for the time; he climbed the back sit and let his eyes travel for the landscape making an effort not to think about anything at all.

 

 

To be Continued…


	17. Death is Not Exactly the End

"When I was 17, I fought a war. Many of my friends died, some of them, before my eyes. I was tortured, I had visions of deaths, and I watched my godfather be murdered in front of me because of a mistake I made. This person that killed that man… Has a trace of madness I only saw in one magical signature before. Voldemort's favorite, Bellatrix Lestrange. But she is dead."

Harry explained, he looked at Dean who was looking out the window taking in that Harry may know more about hunting than he ever imagined.

"If there is something we learned in this business, Harry, is that death is not exactly the end." Sam said, with a half smile and an accomplice look to Dean.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Take Dean, for example, spent 40 years in hell." Sam stated matter-of-factly.

"Sam!" Dean shouted, angry. He didn't want Harry to know. Not yet.

"Dean, he would know, sooner or later." Sam said throwing him a sad look. Dean threw an insecure look at Harry.

"Sam, could you take stroll?" Harry asked. He knew Dean was freaking out and that they would HAVE to talk.

"No problem. Call me when you are finished." Sam said. He wasn't angry, he wasn't annoyed. If Harry was Dean's Girl he had to know. So he decided on purpose to just throw Dean's dirtiest secret on the table. They had to talk about it. Dean needed to talk about that with someone besides him. He picked up his wallet, the keys to the Impala and left.

"Dean…" Harry started as soon as he thought Sam was out of earshot. Dean was still looking outside.

"I went to hell and back, big deal! Nothing wrong with that." Dean said sarcastically.

"If it were not a big deal, you'd have told me. What happened there?" Harry asked.

There was a long silence. He even thought Dean wouldn't answer.

"I gave up. After 30 years of torture I gave up and I picked up a knife and tortured people. I spent 10 years doing it and I was pretty good too. I spent 10 years becoming one of those things, Harry, those demons. I still have nightmares about it, and not only of being tortured but of the times I did the torturing. The worst of it all… Is that sometimes… Sometimes… I remember to have liked it. And those are the times I can't look you in the eye in the morning. Because it could have been you… Or anyone else." Dean said, almost broken, still looking at the window, he didn't have the guts to look at Harry.

"Dean… I fought a war. I did loads of things I'm not proud of, either. I killed, I used prohibited spells, I caused innocent deaths with rash decisions… Also tortured once, in a fit of rage. I also had wished to die. Dean, the day the man who killed my parents died… I would have danced on his grave if I could. The day I tortured the woman who had killed my godfather… It felt glorious. We are human. We are weak. And sometimes, we are evil."

Harry touched his shoulder and looked into his eyes.

"Bobby told me you hunt since you were four. That's over 20 years saving people. Against 10 of torture. If it will make you fell better, remember all the people you saved these last 20 years. I'm sure they are still grateful. As I am to have you as my friend." Harry said, with a firm hold on his shoulder, Dean's hand over his.

Dean stood silent for moment and smiled to himself, a look of gratefulness, a look of relief shining in his eyes as he looked at Harry.

"You really are a goddamned girl, aren't you?"

And for a moment everything was alright.

 

To be Continued…


	18. Of Hermione, Special Spell Books and a Celebration

Knowing the root of the matter was Magical, Harry got in touch with his best source of Magical Information: Hermione Granger, Head of the Department of Mysteries. 

Initially, he was reluctant, but he called her anyway. He also told her the whole story. Including how he met Dean and Sam and about Ginerva’s visit. He got the information needed pretty quickly after that. Of course, he had to hear a whole sermon about what in hell was he thinking about “consorting” with a hunter. Hermione had many spies and the death of Rabastan Lestrange didn’t go unnoticed in England. That was probably how Ginerva had got wind of it also. He tried to stick to the argument that Dean was just a friend. Hermione, though, WAS the smartest Witch of her Generation, so she didn’t buy it for a second. She also knew him, what ended up in another sermon about having a crush on the enemy and Harry explaining he had told Dean the whole truth. About the War and Voldemort. And he had not dumped his ass on the side of the road nor tried to kill him so far, so it was a good thing too. She teased him mercilessly after and strangely it reminded Harry of their school years and that warmed his heart.

When the owl with the information arrived he blushed as he opened the package. Inside there was a whole file on the Kukulcan Rocks, but also a book of pleasure and sex spells, “Hot and Spicy - Boy Love Special Edition” it said on its cover and just bellow there was a promotional note: “Enjoy a Whole Chapter on Lubrication!” Harry just wanted the floor to swallow him whole.

Anyway, according to 'Mione's research, the Kukulcan Rocks could actually control supernatural creatures. But not all of them. She had this theory that they had tried to control something too powerful with them and that's how the Mayan Civilization had disappeared.

Sam read through 'Mione's file time and time again and Harry thought that if he had met her in person that he could have kissed her. Based on her theory he had developed his own that the Maya had tried to control a demon named Croatan. A demonic pest and that it had been their end. It would all be fascinating if it helped them find the person with the stones which it didn't.

Against his own protests, he ended up reading the book, and boy, did his imagination run wild. He had been tomato red when he read it, his mind supplying rich and detailed images of performing them with Dean. He was so eager even his magic seemed excited to try those. The night the owl arrived, he only slept after a long cold shower.

Meanwhile, apart from all that, they started damage control. Every hunter available was to find and destroy creatures out of control. That night they had just ganked a group of 5 small demons that had invaded a Walmart in Fort Worth and Dean decided it was a good excuse to celebrate, since everyone was walking, alive and well. Which in Dean speak meant a good excuse to drink until you fall.

As soon as they got to the bar a group of three man on a table caught their eyes. They all raised a glass at them. Dean gave them a fake smile, he even seemed kind of shy. They motioned for the three arrivals to sit with them. Dean seemed reluctant.

"Dean, they will only come and sit with us if we don't go sit with them." Sam said as I there was no avoiding those people, and Harry got only more curious.

"You are right. I just… Forget it." Dean said looking a bit at the floor resigned.

They went to the table, pulled a few chairs and sat.

"Hey, waitress!" Said this loud gruff older man that sat beside Dean. "Bring my friend here, the best Whiskey in the house."

Dean looked uncomfortable, and the man didn't seem to notice as he just threw his meaty arm around Dean's shoulder. Harry felt deeply bothered by it. He knew Dean well enough to know that the man's proximity was getting on his nerves, that he was dying to be rude and have some peace. He didn't though. And Harry was even more unsettled. Dean wasn't the kind of guy to be polite to someone he didn't like.

"Dean and Sam Winchester!" Another man on the table, a small redneck in a checked and red shirt said. "Can't believe our luck, right, Melvin?" He asked the burly man who had his arm around Dean and the man nodded enthusiastically.

"And who is this guy, here?" Asked the third guy, this one was black, not as thin as the second one, but thinner than Melvin and as tall as.

"He is new. Bobby asked us to give him a few pointers." Answered Sam. It was as if Dean had become a mute.

"I'm Henry." He presented himself in his obvious accent.

"You had come a long way across the pound, kid." Said the redneck in the red shirt. Harry had to bite his tongue not to tell the guy who was the 'kid'. He was 30 years old, for Merlin's sake! "There wasn't much left for me there." Harry answered instead, masking his annoyance, but his eyes crossed Dean's and they shared a silent joke.

"We know the feeling. I'm Jason, this is Ned and that, as you know is Melvin. " Said the low tones of the black guy, who was the less loud of the three. He became Harry's favorite immediately just because he didn't call him 'kid'.

"But you are lucky, kid, you are learning from the best!" Ned said with such enthusiasm it made him think of Colin Creevey.

"Is that so?" He asked, his voice laced with such a subtle irony that none but Dean seemed to notice.

"I can't believe it! Winchester! Tell the boy! Tell him how you guys dispatched the Devil once and for all!" Melvin told Dean, bringing him even closer, which made the other man even more uncomfortable. Harry had to breath in deeply and count to ten not to sectumsempra the man's arm out.

"It's too long a story." Dean commented.

Sam looked at his brother and knew he didn't like to talk about that. That had been the worst time of their lives.

"Tell him, Dean. Sooner or later he will hear about it." Sam said, also hating to remember that story.

"We ganked the devil. Me, Sammy and our friend Cas." Dean said simply.

"He is being modest!" Ned said laughing loudly. "They stopped the fucking Apocalypse! The demons set Lucifer free, and these guys, these guys…" He laughed a bit more. Sam was also looking extremely uncomfortable at the moment. "They stopped the four horsemen. The angels were on the demon's side and also wanted the world to end! These two guys here, stood up to them! Told them to shove their apocalypse up their asses! I heard there is even gospel on them!"

Both of the Winchesters looked really irritated just remembering Chuck's work.

Their drinks came and they continued talking and talking. Dean kept the same drink through most of the night, drinking it slowly, as if his plan to get wasted had gone down the drain, which probably had.

On their first opportunity, they slipped from the drunken hunters. Sam for once was quiet and asked to sit on the back. Harry sat on the passenger sit.

"So, you guys have a gospel on you?" Harry asked.

Dean didn't answer.

"Dean, you complain about me holding back that I had an ex-wife, but you forget to tell me you ganked the Devil and stopped the Apocalypse?" Harry insisted, raising an eyebrow.

Dean was still silent. It was Sam who answered Harry's question.

"It is not a fond memory for us."

Harry nodded, deciding to let it rest for now, but that as soon as he could, he would find these gospels, the so called Winchester Bibles and that he would find the truth about Dean Winchester.

 

To be Continued…


	19. Non Nocere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short... I'm also Sorry for the Cliffhanger... Will post more on Monday.

It was late. Dean and Sam were asleep, Dean on the couch, Sam on one of the beds. Their next hunt was a day away and Harry was using Sam's laptop for some research of his own. It was surprisingly easy to find the Supernatural books, there was even fanfiction on it. He just had to look on Google. He made the order for the whole collection directly from the publisher's site and directed it to his mail box. He had charmed it to work like a disappearing cabinet. And he took its corresponding cabinet with him everywhere, shrank in his bag. He soon would know what that was all about.

When he was ready to go to bed, feeling very pleased with himself, he listened to a voice in his mind.

"Harry James Potter, I bind thee to my service. Mine you'll be for as long as I want you. You'll do as I say, you'll answer to me." The voice rebounded in the back of his mind and light shone on his arms for a moment. Runes appeared on his arms and round his neck, old and forgotten; they shone for a moment and disappeared. He knew he was being recruited by the fucker who had the Kukulcan Rocks. And he had to protect Dean. With his hands he wove his spell, resisting as long as he could to the control of the stones. He touched Dean's forehead and traced a pattern of protection. "May my magic never betray my heart. I mark you with my finger. Non nocere (1)." He couldn't know if he would ever see Dean again and in his despair and fight against the control of the Rocks that pulled him away, he lowered his lips and kissed Dean's.

Even in his sleep, Dean returned the kiss, slowly waking up. The lips that were kissing him were perfect, he realized. No matter they were dry and cracked, the person was one hell of a kisser. He opened his eyes to be lost in Harry's green eyes. Dean's eyes widened in surprise.

"What…" He wasn't able to finish his question. Before he could, he noticed Harry's sadness. It was as if he was holding back tears, it was as if his heart was broken. Harry wasn't a sissy to cry for nothing.

The pull from the rocks increased, Harry got up from the couch and had to hold himself to the door as his legs answered to the call trying to take him away.

"Dean, I'm so sorry." Was all he could say…

*POP*

Before he was gone.

 

To be Continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) - Non Nocere means "Do no Harm" in Latim.


	20. Truce?

It was three days since Harry had disappeared.

Sam tried to argue that Harry had left, but Dean would hear none of it. He was restless. He couldn't sleep, he was edgy, he barely even ate. His search for Harry was 24/7. He couldn't care less if the supernatural was out of control. He had to find Harry. Harry's eyes, his voice as he said he was sorry… Were engraved on Dean's mind. The taste of his lips still burned from their chaste goodbye kiss.

The TV was on, but Dean was preparing to leave, he was going to meet this hunter who was a specialist on Witches, and who could maybe teach him a way to track Harry.

Sam was worried. They had other hunts, there were people dying and Dean was wasting his time with a guy who left. He was really angry at the short wizard. If he met the man, he would certainly shoot first and ask questions later, he had betrayed them. Worse, he had hurt his brother.

"Dean, forget about him. He left. He chickened out." Sam said, not being able to watch his brother obsess over finding Harry anymore.

"Sam… He was forced. He was trying to hold on things to stay. That wacko must be controlling him with the stones!" Dean answered.

"Dean, face it! You want to believe that because you can't take that he has left you behind!" Sam shouted at his brother. "Dean… I… I know you… Cared about him, but you have to focus on the hunt. People are dying." Sam argued.

"He could die too." Dean answered, somberly.

"…" Sam didn't know what to answer. That was when his attention was grabbed by the TV. The news was on and there were live video feeds of a crazy young man who was attacking the president with magic. He looked terribly like Harry. The reporters said that it was some kind of terrorist that had decided to use illusionism as an intimidating technique against the secret service, and that it had worked since the president had been kidnapped.

After that, CNN kept notifying every hour one more world leader kidnapping. One by one. Ministers, Presidents… Every leader of every important country was missing and the cops didn't even know where to begin, much less Sam or Dean did.

Then it was that Sex Pistols' "God Save the Queen" started playing and Dean recognized it as Harry's tune to calls from England. He looked at the screen and it said 'Hermione'.

"Harry?" Asked a woman's voice with a British accent on the other side of the line.

"It's Dean." The hunter answered.

"I'm so sorry, I thought this was Harry's phone." The woman sounded ashamed of getting the wrong number.

"It is. He forgot his phone here, Hermione. Do you know where I can find him?" Dean asked trying his best to keep cool.

"You are his hunter friend, then?" She asked.

"Yeah, and you are his witch friend." He said mocking the way she talked about him.

"You don't know where he is?" She asked, alarmed.

"He was on CNN a few hours ago kidnapping Obama." He answered not at all happy to say that.

"He took the British Minister for Magic too." Hermione said, even more worried.

"He's been missing for 3 days, before having his 15 minutes o fame. That bastard got him." Dean said.

"The one with the Kukulcan Rocks?"

"Yeah."

"Dean, is that your name? We've got to stop him. Harry is too powerful." Hermione was more and more worried, jumping into her 'planning for the war' mode.

"I got that, lady, but we have no idea where he is thanks to you guys Popping around like popcorn." Dean said.

That was when the TV got Dean's eyes. Sam was trying to change the channel but the signal was on all of them. There was a message on air, in it there was a woman in a mask dressed in a black dress. She was pale and her nails were painted dark red. There was a man to her right. And a group of masked people behind her.

Dean's eyes were glued on the expressionless face of the young man to the woman's right. It was Harry.

"Ladies and gentleman… It is my pleasure to announce that I have your leaders here with me." She pointed out of the video and the camera followed her hand where it focused on a group of fifteen to thirty people all unmoving like statues.

The woman entered the image again and touched a few of the statue-like leaders.

"They are alive and well." She paused for emphasis. "For now. These is not wax, boys and girls, it really is them. Harry." She said and with a wave of his hand the Obama statue was on his knees breathing hard.

"Honey." She called again, and with another gesture of Harry's hand the US president was writhing on the floor in pain, screaming. She nodded and the pain seemed to stop. Dean would recognize that "honey" anywhere.

"As you see, I have in my power the most powerful weapon there is." She touched Harry proudly. "And this time, Harry Potter won't save you. So you better resign your governments to me. Or that," She pointed at Obama on the floor. "Will be your end. In name of our late Lord Voldemort, we, the Vipers, will correct the wrongs in this world. Soon there will be official notices to all wizards and non-wizards as to how to behave on the new regiment. I hope you all enjoy it, though I doubt you will. And if I don't have the documents in my power in two days, I'll start blowing up buildings. Randomly. In every country, every hour. You have until the day after tomorrow at noon. Hope to hear from you soon."

There was a pronouncement of the government after that saying they would not negotiate with terrorists and that the army was ready. The civilians panicked. They tried to leave the cities, fly to smaller countries. But as soon as the first plane was in the air, it fell, the same happened to boats. The roads were closed by terrible wide fissures that could easily swallow a big truck. The same was with the railroads. That's when people started taking her seriously.

Dean and Sam, though already did take her seriously. For on her fingers there were rings. Two identical rings with ugly opaque looking rocks.

"Did you see her? On TV? That's our woman! She has Harry!" Dean said over the phone to Hermione.

"And the Kukulcan Rocks." Completed Sam in the room at the same time as Hermione who was on the other side of the ocean.

"Tell me where you are, I'm not letting Harry without help." Hermione continued.

"We can handle this." Dean said.

"A roomful of evil wizards and a brainwashed Harry?" Hermione raised her eyebrow her tone half mocking.

"We've got worse." Dean answered truthfully. A 'worldful' of Demons and Angels and Lucifer and Michael for instance.

"I don't care. Harry is my friend since I was eleven and there is no way, I won't be a part of this." She said with finality.

"Alright, but we do this our way."

She sighed but agreed anyway, she didn't even know why, maybe because he was even bossier than her. Dean gave her their location and started packing.

"Dean, we don't have Harry's location." Sam reminded his brother, tiredly.

"Sam, my baby could drive to that place on her own if she needed to. There isn't a place in the world with so much Canadiens decoration. The Bitch is in Mac's Bar."

 

To be Continued…


	21. The British Brigade and Showdown

Dean was pretty sure he and Sam were all kinds of messed up. Harry's friends though were a whole new level of weird.

First there was Hermione, the girl from the phone call. She was bossy and Sammy smart so she and Sam made fast friends. They had the habit of divagating on their process of thought when they were together. It was like there wasn't anyone but themselves who could really understand what they were talking about. Dean tried to keep up most of the time but held his ground when she tried to take control of the operation. No girl would call his shots, he was an experienced hunter and wasn't afraid of giving her a piece of his mind when she started bugging him. So that made for mutual respect and a veiled admiration for each other's strong feats.

Then there were the Weasley brothers, Harry's ex-in-laws, Dean could bet his trigger finger on it… Ginerva's hair had the same ginger tone as theirs. Bill, George, Percy and Ron. Ron was Hermione's husband so she technically was a Weasley too, but as Dean learned soon, she was a whole chapter apart.

Percy, was a neat freak so he bothered Dean now and then. Ron, ate as much as he did so they would fight for the last French fries sometimes. George was smart and liked to make fun of Dean's macho attitude, but he knew not to push too many of the hunter's buttons. All these wizards had heard of hunters and knew they weren't to be messed up with. And there was Bill, who in some insane level was a kindred spirit who liked good music and wild lifestyle even if he had left it behind in favor of his wife and kid. Bill immediately had taken a liking to Dean, because he didn't care and didn't stare too much at his scars. Dean respected battle scars and respected Bill even more after learning they had been given by a werewolf.

Neville was cool enough. Could hold his ground but was a bit shy. When needed he spoke his mind and gave his opinion, but he grew red every time George made a joke about him liking Luna. And Luna… Luna was kind, but a freakshow on her own. Sammy liked her stary eyes and her wise remarks… But Dean didn't really have the patience for it.

For the first day they had a long strategic meeting. Packed everything they could carry, the Impala included, and popped or apparated, as they called it, to Boston. Dean and Sam had enough guns to blow up a whole block.

"Hey, Sammy! Aim for the head. That's how I offed that Death Eater douche bag." Dean warned as they prepared to make their move in the back alley of Mac's Canadiens Bar. Sam just nodded. Hermione and Luna were a bit horrified at their violence but they would make sure the hunters would be shielded from as many curses as they could stop, but the girls had explained that if the light was green and the incantation was Avada Kedavra, the killing spell Harry mentioned, that they had to duck or they would be dead. There was no blocking that, after all.

Bill picked the wards and the lock of the back room. Harry's wards, as Dean had imagined, were trick and powerful, but Bill was a professional curse breaker as he so proudly announced. He had worked for years for the Gringotts' goblins, whoever they were. The group found themselves in a business kitchen. There were piles of plates by the wall, fryers, huge washing machines. A Simple business kitchen.

"God, I missed this place." Dean commented to none in particular. Sam just looked at his brother. On their pockets they carried hex bags, just in case. Luna commented that if she weren't looking at them she couldn't sense their presence at all. That meant Ruby's mojo worked against all kinds of witches. Crouching low, Sam, Dean and Ron passed from the kitchen and hid behind the bar. The others would wait for the signal. They could hear the woman's voice. Using a small mirror and the one that was located behind the bottles of drinks they could see the whole room beyond the bar. The statues of the politicians were where the tables used to be. The Vipers were seated in the booths. The tables and chairs that should be at the dining area were covering the glass door, so nobody could actually see anything let alone enter by the front door. The woman was laughing and talking to an unresponsive and unemotional Harry Potter that stood by her prisoners, she spoke for him only but they were close enough to the bar that Dean, Sam and Ron could hear her perfectly. It was Ginerva Potter, and Sam had to hold Dean down so that he wouldn't blow their cover.

"You know, this place is dreadful. Mac's bar, ridiculous name, just like yours… I never knew you liked hockey." She commented matter-of-factly and shook her head. "Horrible sport. It's funny to think how you blossomed far from my influence, huh? That's what you used all your money for? This good for nothing bar?" She hit Harry in the face, he barely moved. "Oh, I forgot, you also spent it with that criminal of a boyfriend you got yourself." She laughed. "To think that you would turn out gay… You know, you could never hide from me, Harry. I know that look that tells your loved ones that you'd sell your soul to please them, and that was exactly how you looked at that man in your apartment." Dean felt his heart warm all over. So Harry really liked him. "You don't have bad taste either, I must admit. You are such pitiful creature, begging for love. I used to be like you, remember? I would run around you like you were the centre of the universe. Until I knew Tom in my second year. You never understood. You had to save me. But I was willingly sacrificing my life force so that he could return in the Chamber of Secrets. And before killing me… He had loved me like you never did, Harry. You failed me even as a man. Every time you touched me, I was thinking of him." She smiled wickedly at Harry.

"He touched my soul. But you killed him. I tried to stay close, to have you trust me so that I could ruin your plans, but you never did trust me completely, did you? Your instincts about me were too sharp for your body to let you lose that war to your foolish heart. Because I remember when that look of love and awe was turned to me… And it made me so sick I had to use Seamus to fuck the memory out of my mind. He is so much better than you in bed… He was never Tom, but he was definitely better than you. And now you are mine. You, your power, your money, this stinking little shithole. You are my toy now. Like the whole world. That's the gift Tom said he would give me. His death hurt me so… But I can get all revenge I ever wanted. The old fart, Dumbledore, the first in my list, is already dead, the traitor, Snape, the second one is also dead, you, are my toy. So I can begin with my family. George, who told on me, Ron who never broke your trust, that filthy mudblood he has for a wife… Look at us! In our years of marriage we never had such a long conversation!" She laughed, loudly. Discreetly, she threw a look at the bar.

"And who would have thought, your boyfriend does have some balls, Harry. Mobilicorpus!" She said and pointed the spell at Dean. Ron deflected it in time showing himself. That was when hell broke loose.

Dean shot Ginny's wand hand. Sam gave the signal. George, Percy, Neville, Hermione and Luna, entered just in time to engage in duels with the Vipers that mobilized around their master in the smallest sign of trouble.

The fight was vicious. Ron concentrated on two Vipers, Bill got himself a difficult one, Neville had two more to deal with and George got his own. Percy and Hermione shared one, while Luna tried her best to shield the Winchesters. Sam had killed a Viper already but couldn't get a second shot. Dean was empting his guns after Ginny. Who had dived behind the booths by the wall. Before long, George had his enemy out cold, and helped Neville. Soon more two Vipers were bound. Ginny was seeing her boat sink when Bill knocked his enemy off and Ron had also already made one victim.

"HARRY!" She screamed. With few hand movements he had all of them pinned to the wall with his powers. It felt so much like demonic behavior that Sam broke a cold sweat from the memory only. They all were out of the game. All but Dean. A rune flared on his forehead and he kept shooting at her. No Viper came to her rescue since they all had been subdued or killed by the former Dumbledore Army.

"Harry! Your boyfriend! Stop him, now!" She continued shrieking. Harry moved his hands but the rune on Dean's forehead shone again and nothing happened.

"You are SO dead, Bitch!" Dean answered back, full of confidence since Harry's magic didn't work on him.

She grabbed her own wand with her left hand thinking that if she wanted something done she had to do it herself. She aimed at Dean who thought that was just his chance to shoot her. He got her on her stomach which mad her scream in pain and rage, but she also hit him. It was the cruciatus curse. Dean screamed in the floor. Sam screamed for his brother but he could do nothing.

When she stopped the spell, she had a smirk on her lips.

"Are you ready to scream yourself dead?" She asked.

Dean rolled on his back and started laughing at her.

"Amateur." He spat at her.

"Crucio." She said again, breathing hard from the bullet wound and his anger, again he screamed.

When she stopped the spell again, he started laughing again.

"I've been to Hell and back, Bitch. If you want to cause pain maybe I can give you some pointers." That was it. She was fuming. She was beyond angry. Magic wouldn't suffice; she had to see the bastard bleed! She went to the kitchen and grabbed a butcher's knife that was in the knife holder on the counter. She came and lifted the knife at the man on the floor. For her, he was just a pitiful low muggle. What she forgot, was that the low muggle, even after the cruciatus curse, was a lot stronger than her physically and skilled in hand to hand combat. Her left hand which held the knife came down at Dean's chest but he grabbed it with both his hands, crashing her wrist and making her let go of the knife. He took it from the floor.

His muscles still shook like crazy from the torture but his anger at her was so that it didn't stop him from remorseless plunging the knife deep into her heart. And that was one of that few moments where he felt pleasure in killing. Her glassy eyes stared at him in pain as she fell to the floor. He smiled at her sadistically.

He was so focused on his task of killing her that he only noticed it too late. A voice said "Avada Kedavra" behind him and when he turned to look, Harry was standing just in front of him.

The green light hit him and his body started to fall. All bodies that were being held by his magic fell also. The man who did the deed was Seamus Finnigan. His mask fell when he hit the floor, dead too. Ron had taken care of him for Dean was too occupied. He held to him the cold body of his best friend. The glassy green eyes of Harry stared through him. His bloody hands touched Harry's face, painting it a dreadful, gory red as he caressed it repetitively, madly.

"Harry, Harry, don't do it to me, man. Don't! Hold on. I need you here. Please. Please…"

Sam couldn't look. Dean's eyes were full of tears. His lips trembled as he asked God, and Cas and whoever was listening not to take Harry from him. He begged and soon wasn't strong enough not cry. Sam couldn't really believe. When he stayed with Jane, he had thought it was over. The curse of the Winchesters.

It seemed he was wrong.

To be Continued…


	22. I Never Told Him

Harry's soul observed his own prostrated form, and Dean's tears. He had never seen Dean cry before. His soul felt like weeping too. Dying had never once hurt like this. A very thin man showed up beside him, then. He wore a black suit and had on a ring with a white stone in it, his hair was dark and it was thinning, he held a fancy walking stick that made Harry think of Lucius Malfoy, but Malfoy never yielded power like the man beside him. This man... He exuded it. Harry's soul had on its finger a ring just like the one that held the shards of the Ressurection Stone, a dark mantle was on his shoulders and in his belt there was a long wand made of dark wood. Few would recognize but they were the Deathly Hallows. Harry knew that man well.

"You look good in them, you know that?" The dark haired man commented. "You should wear them more often."

"You know it would be only trouble. I thought it was going to be a long time before I saw you again." Harry answered with a defeated sigh.

The man chuckled not unkindly.

"What can I say? You had a death wish throwing yourself in front of that one." The man pointed at Dean Winchester as if he knew him well. Harry guessed there was no man he didn't.

"Dying for him felt righter than dying for the Wizarding World." Harry said not looking at him, his eyes couldn't leave Dean, he wondered if sould could cry.

"I tell you, you are one of the yoyo cases." The man said matter-of- factly, trying to lighten the mood.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"This is the forth time (1). You and me. You come... And then you go back, like a yoyo." The man looked at the living people around making his point. He pointed at Dean then.

"He is one of the worst yoyo cases I ever faced." He looked up and used his fingers trying to count for a minute and giving it up just a moment after. "By now I've lost count but I think we are over 200(2) times."

Harry's eyes widened, there was so much he didn't have the time to learn about Dean.

"200?" He asked and raised a eyebrow.

"You'll have to ask him about the details. But officially, actually, in this reality, just twice(2)." He smiled again with that kindness.

"Oh…" Harry faked understanding, but soon his mood dived to the bottom of depression. "You know, I thought I would actually get some peace this time." He said in a sad wondering voice that kept screaming "what if" in the back of his mind… "And I hadn't even got the chance to… I loved him. And I had to die without telling. It feels so unfair."

The man shook his head. "You people keep making the same mistake, over and over. It's sad, really. And fair doesn't have anything to do with it. 'People only get a lifetime. No more. No less.' May that serve as a lesson."

"For what? My next life?" Harry asked Death, raising an eyebrow in impertinence.

"For the rest of this one." The thin man said in slight reprimand. "Harry, this is the first time you had something to loose, the first time you had wished to live. You paid your debts in advance, young man. And you are Master Over Death. It's not like I can't cut the boss some slack, now and then…" He winked at Harry. Death smiled and waved as Harry's vision fogged and he lost conscience again.

 

To be Continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Refers to Harry's Death and Near-death experiences. First, when he was one year-old and his mother saved him. Then, in second year, when he was almost dead from basilisk poison. Third, when he was hit by Voldie's killing curse the second time. So that made this encounter the forth time.
> 
> (2) Refers to all the times the Trickster killed Dean in Mystery Spot. And the official ones refer to his heart condition on the episode Faith and his actual death by the end of Season 3.


	23. In these arms...

As he got his bearings, Harry felt a weight on his chest, his shirt and face were wet and his body was in an awkward position. He blinked a few times for his eyes felt a little dry. He focused on the ceiling of his bar an tought for a moment it needed a new coat of paint. Four of his light-bulbs had exploded too, he would need to buy new ones. Changing the angle a bit his eyes met a pair of blue ones, Luna.

"Oh, hello, Harry." She said with a dreamy smile, like nothing had happened. Very Luna, indeed.

The weight on his chest lifted and he was looking into Dean's impossibly green eyes. They were red rimmed and there were tear tracks on his dirty face. It broke Harry's heart a little.

"You are alive?" Dean's voice asked in a broke, unbelieving tone. The green eyes roamed over his face that gained color by the second and the voice gained a relieved, happy tone. "Dude, you are alive!" It said.

Dean, then, raised Harry from his laying state, his smile so big it hurt on his face, and hugged him purely on impulse. He was too happy to care. Harry was astounded and didn't move for a moment. A moment that was enough for Dean to come to his senses and regret his hugging. He was releasing Harry when the wizard decided to hold on to him, using both hands to hold the hunter in place.

"Hug me some more." He said in a low tone of intimacy, like it was just the two of them and not a room full of people. His familiar accent and voice caressed Dean's very essence. Dean strengthened his hold around Harry enjoyed his familiar smell, feeling the warmth creaping back into Harry's form. Dean was happy to have an excuse to hold Harry, he still felt that if he let go of the wizard, even for just a second, he would just go popping out of existence again.

"You are crazy. You could have died." Dean said into Harry's ear.

"I did. I couldn't let you die, though." They released each other long enough for Harry to look on Dean's eyes his own feeling with tears. "If you did, I… I couldn't…" Harry's voice broke.

Dean hugged him again. Not looking at him but feeling him instead. Alive and warm. "Shhh… It's ok. I'm here, you are here. We're good. Just don't go doing it again, ok?" Dean whispered.

Harry nodded, holding Dean tight.

"I love you, Dean." Harry said sinking his face on Dean's shoulder, drinking of his smell like a drowning man, cataloging it in his mind under the label of 'treasure'. He would not let this opportunity pass. His loved one had to know. Dean, on his part, froze. He didn't know what to say, he had only said the words to family before and in VERY private moments. Even so, he knew that if he didn't say something soon he would hurt Harry. His Harry… Who had just came back from the dead, who had just thrown himself in front of a dark deadly curse that was aimed for him. He looked around quickly to see if anyone was watching. His brother and Hermione were making a show of pretending not to be watching, the girl had puffy red eyes and a teary smile for his friend. George met his eyes with a strange look, it was sad and kind of told him not to be stupid and let this opportunity pass, he looked like he was remembering someone important and that was the first time he had ever seen George so serious. Neville was avoiding looking but he had a blush on his cheeks and that sunny smile that told him of how happy he was Harry was alive. Bill and Ron were tying the living Vipers with magical ropes while Percy obliviated the world leaders and knocked them out. They weren't aware Harry was alive yet. Luna was staring openly, with a sincere knowing smile.

Dean held Harry a little stronger and whispered in his ear, very low, so much so, Harry thought for a second he might be daydreaming.

"Me too, baby, me too."

 

To be Continued…


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guys, we got to the end!!! Yay!!! There is a Sequel written, but it is a little darker and angsty. Proceed with caution.

Dean had just finished up with the last chair. He cleaned the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He had worked on the broken chairs and tables the whole day and it hadn't been an easy job. Harry said he could fix it all with magic, but Dean thought that it felt too much like cheating. That morning all of Harry's friends had gone back to England after almost a week of half truths and reassurances that the killing curse had been said and performed wrongly and that that was the reason he survived. He didn't want people calling him the man-who-lived-again or some shit like that. He just wanted some peace and quiet for once. Hermione didn't buy it for a second, and tried all the time to gather the truth, but let it go after Harry was as stubborn into not telling as she was into asking. Ron acted like he believed it, but since he was a terrible actor; Dean assumed he didn't really want to know. Luna once described exactly what happened in a moment she had been alone with him and Harry, and when they gaped at her she smiled her unique smile and just told them not to worry, people tended not believe her. Neville said that when he was ready if ever, he could trust and tell him. Bill didn't pry, his trust in Harry was total, so if he wasn't telling he wasn't asking, he even helped shut Percy up, who was as relentless as Hermione about this, but when she gave up he knew he wouldn't stand a chance and let go also. George just said "Yeah, right." And started a whole bunch of jokes about Slytherin Heir and Zombies. "Fear the Undead Potter! Vampire Harry Tepes attacks once more!" He would say and they all would laugh. Dean knew the truth as bizarre as it was, about Death and the Hallows, but he didn't tell anyone, not even Sam who also asked for the truth but seeing that his brother wasn't telling he also let go. For the moment.

Since they were all going back at once, Harry went with them to Boston's Magical Government, wherever that was, to see them off the floo network since they didn't have a fireplace. Some of the dialogs he had with Harry when talking about wizarding stuff just didn't make any sense at all, but he couldn't be too bothered by that. It came with the package that was being with Harry Potter. The day before, Sammy also had hit the road back to Minneapolis. He was starting to get worried sick over Jane and their baby. Dean smiled, soon he would have a nephew… Who would have thought?

In a way he felt relieved. He liked them, alright, but they were intruding. How was he supposed to kiss his boyfriend (that sounded girly), his boy (that sounded like he was a perv old man), his Harry (much better) with them around? He let out a sigh. Why was it SO difficult to have a bit of peace, quiet and sex? He wasn't a monk for crying out loud and ever since this whole business with the Kukulcan Rocks started he hadn't got laid once!

A pair of masculine hands suddenly slid inside his t-shirt over his stomach and a smaller flat chest pressed onto his back.

"I thought they would never leave." Harry said and Dean could feel the vibration of his voice against his back. Dean turned in the embrace, Harry's hands warm against sweaty skin. He took Harry face in both his hands and, finally, after a whole week of waiting, he kissed Harry.

As he remembered, Harry's lips were dry and cracked but that didn't bother him, they were also eager and hot. Harry's hands were still under his shirt and traveled up his back taking with them his t-shirt. They broke apart for a few seconds so that Dean's t-shirt could pass through his head.

"You are so hot, Dean…" Harry said. Dean could have said the same but his need of Harry was so, that he couldn't use his mouth for anything other than kissing Harry. His own hands finding warm skin under two layers of shirts. Harry was slim and fine to the touch. He could feel his scars, but instead of feeling bothered by them he studied the feeling of each one. As Harry found his nipples he couldn't stop a gasp from escaping his throat.

It wasn't long before he took off Harry's shirts. It wasn't long also before Dean found Harry's nipples. A throaty moan left his mouth sending a shiver down Dean's back. The hunter's hands traveled all over Harry, sliding down to his ass, then his legs, pulling them both around his waist as he lifted the smaller man from the floor. Harry laced his legs on Dean's back and as his lover took him to the nearest, biggest table around. Harry threw a darkening spell at the windows and felt his back hit the smooth table.

All smart thoughts fled as he met Dean's green eyes, just before the man decided his Adam's apple looked tasty. Dean's tongue traveled under his jaw-line, his earlobe, his pulse, his collarbone and down his sternum until he stopped and bit a nipple. Harry bit his lower lip to muffle a groan.

Dean's tongue kept its way down and found his navel. Harry was hard and he felt like he was burning to feel that tongue on his dick. Dean felt him tremble and with a mean smile he teased Harry licking just above the waistband of his jeans.

Callused fingers undid his button, then his zipper, and slid Harry's jeans and underwear in one go. Before he could adjust to the temperature difference, his dick was engulfed in heat. "Dean!"

Dean's pouty lips were working up and down. Harry let his head fall on the table just for a moment in pleasure, for he wanted to see, Dean's eyes teasing him.

Dean lifted his mouth from Harry and the wizard whined.

"Baby, you taste better than pie." He said, licking his lips.

Harry made a hand move and a colorful bottle came flying into his hand.

"Dean, please, just do it…" Harry begged trusting the bottle into Dean's hand. The hunter looked at the bottle, uncapped it and licked the substance from his thumb.

"Strawberry flavored lube? Next time we have to try apple." He smirked coating his fingers with it.

With a practiced ability he had from his girls, Dean, started fingering Harry's ass slowly, careful not to hurt his Harry, who was left in a mess of moaning melted down wizard. His other hand traveled up and down Harry's shaft in a distracting rhythm.

"Please, oh please, please." Harry begged some more and suddenly the fingers that scissored him were exchanged by something much bigger, something Harry had wanted for a long time, something he had fingered himself at night thinking about.

Dean's dick slammed into him in one go and he was overwhelmed. He breathed even harder closing his eyes in pain so that he could adjust. Dean also breathed hard, Harry was so tight and hot and perfect around him, he had to hold hard on Harry's hips not to start moving and hurting his baby. Feeling Harry relax and adjust he put one of Harry's knees over his shoulder and the other around his waist. He started moving slowly at first, angling, watching Harry's expression carefully.

It took five thrusts for him to find it. Harry screamed loudly, but not in pain but in pleasure. Dean had found his prostate and with each new carefully aimed thrust, Harry groaned and screamed, and begged.

"Oh, Merlin, fuck me, fuck me… Harder, please. More."

Dean wasn't strong enough to keep gentle as he listened to all this, soon all shadow of control left him and he rode his lover with desperation. He had wanted Harry SO much.

It wasn't long before Harry screamed Dean's name, lost in an abyss of pleasure. He didn't remember sex being this good, he thought as he let himself fall at the table.

As Dean felt Harry squeeze him as his muscles spasmed in ecstasy he also let go. Harry's name on his lips as he emptied himself inside of his lover. Before he could pass out, he threw himself by Harry's side and breathed, feeling his eyes heavy.

Harry turned and laid his head and shoulder over Dean's chest and intertwined their legs. He was glad they had chosen his biggest table. He sighed getting as comfortable as he could in the hard wood, his limbs heavy with tiredness.

"I love you, Dean."

"Me too, baby, me too."

 

The End.


End file.
